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When two creatives collaborate, the design process becomes a shared stage — each bringing their own strengths, perspectives, and instincts. This project united designer/art director Artem Shcherban and 3D/motion designer Andrew Moskvin to help New York–based scenographer and costume designer Christian Fleming completely reimagine how his work is presented.

What began as a portfolio refresh evolved into a cohesive visual system: a rigorously minimal print catalog, a single-page website concept, and a cinematic 3D visualization. Together, Artem and Andrew shaped an experience that distilled Christian’s theatrical sensibility into clear, atmospheric design across both physical and digital formats.

From here, Artem picks up the story, walking us through how he approached the portfolio’s structure, the visual rules it would live by, and the thinking that shaped both its print and on-screen presence.

Starting the Design Conversation

Christian Fleming is a prominent designer and director based in New York City who works with theaters around the world creating visual spaces for performances. He approached me with a challenge: to update and rethink his portfolio, to make it easy to send out to theater directors and curators. Specifically the print format.

Christian had a pretty clear understanding of what he wanted to show and how it should look: rigid Scandinavian minimalism, extreme clarity of composition, a minimum of elements and a presentation that would be understandable to absolutely anyone – regardless of age, profession or context.

It was important to create a system that would:

• be updated regularly (approximately every 3 weeks),
• adapt to new projects,
• and at the same time remain visually and semantically stable.

There also needed to be an “About Christian” section in the structure, but this too had to fit within a strict framework of visual language.

Designing a Flexible Visual System

I started by carefully analyzing how Christian works. His primary language is visual. He thinks in images, light, texture and composition. So it was important to retain a sense of air and rhythm, but build a clear modular structure that he could confidently work with on his own.

We came up with a simple adaptive system:

• it easily adapts to images of different formats,
• scalable for everything from PDFs to presentations,
• and can be used both digitally and offline.

In the first stages, we tried several structures. However, Christian still felt that there was something missing in the layout – the visuals and logic were in conflict. We discussed which designs he wanted to show openly and which he didn’t. Some works had global reviews and important weight, but could not be shown in all details.

The solution was to divide them into two meaningful blocks:

“Selected Projects”, with full submission, and “Archival Projects”, with a focus on awards, reviews, and context. This approach preserved both structure and tone. The layout became balanced – and Christian immediately responded to this.

After gathering the structure and understanding how it would work, we began creating the design itself and populating it with content. It was important from the start to train Kristan to add content on his own, as there was a lot of project and they change quite often.

One of the key pluses of our work is versatility. Not only could the final file be emailed, but it could also be used as a print publication. This gave Christian the opportunity to give physical copies at meetings, premieres and professional events where tactility and attention to detail are important.

Christian liked the first result, both in the way the system was laid out and the way I approached the task. Then I suggested: let’s update the website as well.

Translating the Portfolio to a Single-Page Site

This phase proved to be the most interesting, and the most challenging.

Although the website looks simple, it took almost 3 months to build. From the very beginning, Christian and I tried to understand why he needed to update the site and how it should work together with the already established portfolio system.

The main challenge was to show the visual side of his projects. Not just text or logos, but the atmosphere, the light, the costumes, the feeling of the scene.

One of the restrictions that Christian set was the requirement to make the site as concise as possible, without a large number of pages, or better to limit it to one, and without unnecessary transitions. It had to be simple, clear and intuitive, but still user-friendly and quite informative. This was a real challenge, given the amount of content that needed to be posted.

Designing with Stage Logic

One of the key constraints that started the work on the site was Christian’s wish: no multiple pages. Everything had to be compact, coherent, clear and yet rich. This posed a special challenge. It was necessary to accommodate a fairly large amount of information without overloading the perception.

I proposed a solution built on a theatrical metaphor: as in a stage blackout, the screen darkens and a new space appears. Each project becomes its own scene, with the user as a spectator — never leaving their seat, never clicking through menus. Navigation flows in smooth, seamless transitions, keeping attention focused and the emotional rhythm intact.

Christian liked the idea, but immediately faced a new challenge: how to fit everything important on one screen:

• a short text about him,
• social media links and a resume,
• the job title and description,
• and, if necessary, reviews.

At the same time, the main visual content – photos and videos – had to remain in the center of attention and not overlap with the interface.

Solving the Composition Puzzle

We explored several layouts — from centered titles and multi-level disclosures to diagonal structures and thumbnail navigation. Some looked promising, but they lacked the sense of theatrical rhythm we wanted. The layouts felt crowded, with too much design and not enough air.

The breakthrough came when we shifted focus from pure visuals to structural logic. We reduced each project view to four key elements: minimal information about Christian, the production title with the director’s name, a review (when available), and a button to select the project. Giving each element its own space created a layout that was both clear and flexible, without overloading the screen.

Refining Through Iteration

As with the book, the site went through several iterations:

• In the first prototype, the central layout quickly proved unworkable – long play titles and director names didn’t fit on the screen, especially in the mobile version. We were losing scalability and not using all the available space.
• In the second version, we moved the information blocks upwards – this gave us a logical hierarchy and allowed us not to burden the center of the screen. The visual focus remained on the photos, and the text did not interfere with the perception of the scenography.
• In the third round, the idea of “titles” appeared – a clear typographic structure, where titles are highlighted only by boldness, without changing the lettering. This was in keeping with the overall minimalist aesthetic, and Christian specifically mentioned that he didn’t want to use more than one font or style unless necessary.

We also decided to stylistically separate the reviews from the main description. We italicized them and put them just below. This made it clear what belonged to the author and what was a response to the author’s work.

Bringing Theatrical Flow to Navigation

The last open issue was navigation between projects. I proposed two scenarios:

1. Navigating with arrows, as if the viewer were leafing through the play scene by scene.
2. A clickable menu with a list of works for those who want to go directly.

Christian was concerned about the question: wouldn’t the user lose their bearings if they didn’t see the list all the time? We discussed this and came to the conclusion that most visitors don’t come to the site to “look for the right job”. They come to feel the atmosphere and “experience” its theater. So the basic scenario is a consistent browsing experience, like moving through a play. The menu is available, but not in the way – it should not break the effect of involvement.

What We Learned About Theatrical Design

We didn’t build just a website. We built an experience. It is not a digital storefront, but a space that reflects the way Christian works. He is an artist who thinks in the rhythm of the stage, and it was essential not to break that rhythm.

The result is a place where the viewer isn’t distracted; they inhabit it. Navigation, structure, and interface quietly support this experience. Much of that comes from Christian’s clear and thoughtful feedback, which shaped the process at every step. This project is a reminder that even work which appears simple is defined by countless small decisions, each influencing not only how it functions but also the mood it creates from the very beginning.

Extending the Design from Screen to Print

Once the site was complete, a new question emerged: how should this work be presented in the most meaningful way?

The digital format was only part of the answer. We also envisioned a printed edition — something that could be mailed or handed over in person as a physical object. In the theater world, where visual presence and tactility carry as much weight as the idea itself, this felt essential.

We developed a set of layouts, but bringing the catalog to life as intended proved slow. Christian’s schedule with his theater work left little time to finalize the print production. We needed an alternative that could convey not only the design but also the atmosphere and weight of the finished book.

Turning the Book into a Cinematic Object

At this stage, 3D and motion designer Andrew Moskvin joined the project. We shared the brief with him — not just to present the catalog, but to embed it within the theatrical aesthetic, preserving the play of light, texture, air, and mood that defined the website.

Andrew was immediately enthusiastic. After a quick call, he dove into the process. I assembled all the pages of the print version we had, and together we discussed storyboards, perspectives, atmosphere, possible scenes, and materials that could deepen the experience. The goal was more than simply showing the layout — we wanted cinematic shots where every fold of fabric and every spot of light served a single dramaturgy.

The result exceeded expectations. Andrew didn’t just recreate the printed version; he brought it to life. His work was subtle and precise, with a deep respect for context. He captured not only the mood but also the intent behind each spread, giving the book weight, materiality, and presence — the kind we imagined holding in our hands and leafing through in person.

Andrew will share his development process below.

Breaking Down the 3D Process

The Concept

At the very start, I wanted my work to blend fluently in the ideas that were already made. Christian Fleming is a scenographer and costume designer, so the visual system needed to reflect his world. Since the project was deeply rooted in the theatrical aesthetic, my 3D work had to naturally blend into that atmosphere. Artem’s direction played a key role in shaping the unique look envisioned by Christian Fleming — rich with stage-like presence, bold compositions, and intentional use of space. My task was to ensure that the 3D elements not only supported this world, but also felt like an organic extension of it — capturing the same mood, lighting nuances, and visual rhythm that define a theatrical setting.

The Tools

For the entire 3D pipeline, I worked in:

1. Cinema 4D for modeling and scene setup
2. Redshift for rendering 
3. After Effects for compositing 
4. Photoshop for color correcting static images

Modeling the Book

The book was modeled entirely from scratch. Me and Artem discussed the form and proportions, and after several iterations, we finalized the design direction. I focused on the small details that bring realism: the curvature of the hardcover spine, beveled edges, the separation between the cover and pages, and the layered structure of the paper block. I also modeled the cloth texture wrapping the spine, giving the book a tactile, fabric-like look. The geometry was built to hold up in close-up shots and fit the theatrical lighting.

Lighting with a Theatrical Eye

Lighting was one of the most important parts of this process. I wanted the scenes to feel theatrical — as if the objects were placed on a stage under carefully controlled spotlights. Using a combination of area lights and spotlights in Redshift, I shaped the lighting to create soft gradients and shadows on the surfaces. The setup was designed to emphasize the geometry without flattening it, always preserving depth and direction. A subtle backlight highlight played a key role in defining the edges and enhancing the overall form.

I think I spent more time on lighting than on modeling, since lighting has always been more experimental for me — even in product scenes.

One small but impactful trick I always use is setting up a separate HDRI map just for reflections. I disable its contribution to diffuse lighting by setting the diffuse value to 0, while keeping reflections at 1. This allows the reflections to pop more without affecting the overall lighting of the scene. It’s a simple setup, but it gives you way more control over how materials respond — especially in stylized or highly art-directed environments.

Building the Materials

When I was creating the materials, I noticed that Artem had used a checkerboard texture for the cover. So I thought — why not take that idea further and implement it directly into the material? I added a subtle bump using a checker texture on the sides and front part of the book.

I also experimented quite a bit with displacement. Initially, I had the idea to make the title metallic, but it felt too predictable. So instead, I went with a white title featuring embossed details, while keeping the checker bump texture underneath.

This actually ties back to the modeling process — for the displacement to work properly, the geometry had to be evenly dense and ready for subdivision. 

I created a mask in Photoshop and applied a procedural Gaussian blur using a Smart Object. Without the blur, the displacement looked harsh and unrefined — even a slight blur made a noticeable difference.

The main challenge with using white, as always, was avoiding blown-out highlights. I had to carefully balance the lighting and tweak the material settings to make the title clean and visible without overexposing it.

One of the more unusual challenges in this project was animating the page slide and making the pages differ. I didn’t want the pages to feel too repetitive, but I also didn’t want to create dozens of individual materials for each page. To find a balance, I created two different materials for two pages and made them random inside of the cloner. It was a bit of a workaround — mostly due to limitations inside the Shader switch node — but it worked well enough to create the illusion of variety without significantly increasing the complexity of the setup.

There’s a really useful node in Redshift called Color User Data — especially when working with the MoGraph system to trigger object index values. One of the strangest (and probably least intuitive) things I did in this setup was using a Change Range node to remap those index values properly according to the number of textures I had. With that in place, I built a system that used an index to mix between all the textures inside a Shader Switch node. This allowed me to get true variation across the pages without manually assigning materials to each one.

You might’ve noticed that the pages look a bit too bright for a real-world scenario — and that was actually a deliberate choice. I often use a trick that helps me art-direct material brightness independently of the scene’s lighting. The key node here is Color Correct Node.

Inside it, there’s a parameter called Level. If you set it higher than 1, it increases the overall brightness of the texture output — without affecting shadows or highlights too aggressively. This also works in reverse: if your texture has areas that are too bright (like pure white), lowering the Level value below 1 will tone it down without needing to modify the source texture.

It’s a simple trick, but incredibly useful when you want fine control over how materials react in stylized or theatrical lighting setups.

The red cloth material I used throughout the scene is another interesting part of the project. I wanted it to have a strong tactile feel — something that looks thick, textured, and physically present. To achieve that, I relied heavily on geometry. I used a Redshift Object Tag with Subdivision (under the Geometry tab) enabled to add more detail where it was needed. This helped the cloth catch light properly and hold up in close-up shots.

For the translucent look, I originally experimented with Subsurface Scattering, but it didn’t give me the control I wanted. So instead, I used an Opacity setup driven by a Ramp and Change Range nodes. That gave me just enough falloff and variation to fake the look of light passing through thinner areas of the fabric — and in the end, it worked surprisingly well.

Animating the Pages

This was by far the most experimental part of the project for me. The amount of improvisation — and the complete lack of confidence in what the next frame would be — made the process both fun and flexible.

What you’re about to see might look a bit chaotic, so let me quickly walk you through how it all started.

The simulation started with a subject — in our case, a page. It had to have the proper form, and by that I mean the right typology. Specifically, it needed to consist only of horizontal segments; otherwise, it would bend unevenly under the forces present in the scene. (And yes, I did try versions with even polygons — it got messy.)

I set up all the pages in a Cloner so I could easily adjust any parameters I needed, and added a bit of randomness using a Random Effector.

In the video, you can see a plane on the side that connects to the pages — that was actually the first idea I had when thinking about how to run the simulation. The plane has a Connect tag that links all the pages to it, so when it rotates, they all follow along.

I won’t go into all the force settings — most of them were experimental, and animations like this always require a bit of creative adjustment.

The main force was wind. The pages did want to slide just from the plane with the Connect tag, but I needed to give them an extra push from underneath — that’s where wind came in handy.

I also used a Field Force to move the pages mid-air, from the center outward to the other side.

Probably the most important part was how I triggered the “Mix Animation.” I used a Vertex Map tag on the Cloner to paint a map using a Field, which then drove the Mix Animation parameter in the Cloth tag. This setup made the pages activate one by one, creating a natural, finger-like sliding motion as seen in Video.

Postprocessing

I didn’t go too heavy on post-processing, but there’s one plugin I have to mention — Deep Glow. It gives amazing results. By tweaking the threshold, you can make it react only to the brightest areas, which creates a super clean, glowing effect.

The Final Theatrical Ecosystem

In the end, Christian was delighted with the outcome. Together we had built more than a portfolio — we had created a cohesive theatrical ecosystem. It moved fluidly from digital performance to printed object, from live stage to interface, and from emotion to technology.

The experience is pared back to its essence: no superfluous effects, no unnecessary clicks, nothing to pull focus. What remains is what matters most — the work itself, framed in a way that stays quietly behind the scenes yet comes fully alive in the viewer’s hands and on their screen.