“I’m definitely a magpie!” Hugh Miller on joining Pentagram, collecting things, and the importance of subtlety

Paul Moore: Hi Hugh — congrats on becoming Pentagram London’s newest partner! How are you feeling about it all? What’s your history with the agency?

Hugh Miller: Thank you, it’s an incredible honour. For me joining Pentagram presents a unique chance to scale things up, and to take on bigger projects while still refining the craft-based approach I’ve been building.

Pentagram has always been there as a reference point for me, both for the calibre of its work and the philosophy of independence it fosters among its partners. The first time I really became aware of what it stood for was when I had the privilege of hearing Alan Fletcher talk at an Icograda event.

My history with the agency is one of admiration from the outside, so stepping into this role feels a bit surreal. I first crossed paths with partners Jody and Luke whilst working in-house with Nokia over 20 years ago. We kept in touch and followed each other’s career paths. We nearly worked together again as I’d commissioned them to work on a project for Ford. That job ended up falling through, but it was a catalyst to start the conversation again.

PM: Can you tell us a bit about your practice and how it’s built to this point? Who were your early influences and what projects have shaped you?

HM:Most recently I’ve been splitting my time between working at Ford in their Human Centred Design studio, on various freelance projects and acting as a visiting lecturer at the University of Greenwich and University of Salford.

I guess you could say that my practice has grown out of a love for typography, music culture, and the intersection of design with lived experience. Early on, I was shaped by designers who treated type as voice and was strongly influenced by studios such as Grapus, Studio Dumbar, Tomato, 8VO and MM Paris. Designers like Wim Crouwel, Vaughan Oliver, Irma Boom, Barbara Wojirsch and Dieter Rehm showed me how form and feeling can co-exist.

I will always bring the craft element to a job, whether it’s for big tech or art institutions. And it’s the projects that sit at that junction – where design holds both intellectual clarity and emotional charge – that have shaped me most.

PM: What type of work defines your practice, what do you love doing, what are you proud of – and what do you want to do more of?

HM: At the core, I love projects where design feels like authorship, and where the work can have a point of view, a rhythm. For me, the most satisfying projects have typography at their heart and encompass an element of craft and, where appropriate, print.

I’m proud of the pieces that have been on both ends of the spectrum, whether that’s the restrained typographic identity for Map Project Office or the playful campaign for the TDC65 Type Directors Club NY. I’d like to do more work that creates cultural impact, projects that live in the world, get talked about, and shift how people see things, however subtle.

PM: You’ve worked with a wide range of clients, from major corporations like Ford, Nokia, Nike and Microsoft, to record sleeve design (which won you the 2024 Freda Sack award). How does your design approach or creative process change when working with such different clients, and what is a common thread, would you say?

HM: I try to stick to the same core principles – whether the client is more corporate or cultural, they are all about culture and I look for the human connection. I find that the process adapts to scale, and with global corporations the challenge usually is to create coherence across huge, complex ecosystems. It’s about storytelling, finding the narrative core and expressing it with clarity and personality.

Whether it’s a global identity or a single record sleeve, it’s about finding truth and making it visible.

PM: You’re on the board for the International Society of Typographic Design. Can you elaborate on a specific project where typography was a critical tool for storytelling and what made it so effective?

HM: The project that I worked on for the Type Directors Club where type became the primary voice is one example. We treated typography not just as a vessel for information but as the character of the institution itself. Elastic and dynamic, it was effective, white still experimental and challenging. It did divide opinion, but most importantly it started a conversation and people connected with that.

Typography has the capacity to carry tone in a way that imagery sometimes can’t. My early influences were illustrators and I nearly took that path at university, so I guess I still illustrate, but with type!