'Mad genius' makes calligraphy special in Somerville

When you receive an envelope from Pier Gustafson, you know you have been delivered something special. It is not a court summons, a coupon book, a cable bill, or even a letter from an old friend. It is an invitation to someplace special and if Gustafson has done his job right, then it should make you smile.

Gustafson is a 54-year-old calligrapher, map and monogram designer, and artist from Somerville with a sense of humor and a dedication to character-based calligraphy.

«I would like my envelopes to look like someone with interesting handwriting wrote it, not like a calligrapher wrote it. I like them to convey expression and mood rather than just being pretty», he says. «I want it to look like there’s going to be an open bar and a fun orchestra».

Pier Gustafson

To understand Gustafson’s work is to first know his apartment and work studio at the Brickbottom Artists Association in Somerville. Coming from the linoleum floored, harshly lit hallway of the building, entering Gustafson’s studio can be a shocking experience.

«The first time I walked into his studio, I didn’t know whether I wanted to cry or try to steal things», said Gustafson’s assistant, Travis Mueller. «You feel like you’re stepping into 1935».

The studio, which could double as a small-scale flea market, is packed with vintage treasures on every surface and around every corner.

Gustafson is a collector. He owns 3,000 pens, nine typewriters, an army of antique tripods that stand guard near the windows, and a cluster of binoculars — ranging from opera glasses to binoculars on a German World War II tank that hang from the ceiling.

A cast iron doctor’s chair from the 1920s with a board on top acts as his studio table, an antique hair dyeing tool is his paint palette, and an ambulance gurney is another work space.

And at the center of it all, sit Gustafson, 6 foot 4 inches, with three pens in his long sleeve navy shirt pocket. His hair is graying at the front and white in back and he is constantly pushing up his round glasses.

He writes with century-old fountain pens, the nib of the pen scratching the envelope’s surface as he makes large loops and beautiful letters.

As the creator of a jock strap font, Gustafson certainly has a sense of humor that he tries to incorporate into his work.

Gustafson approaches the invitation or the map as a puzzle that can be solved with the help of a few interesting details about the client.

«There is a word or two or a phrase that suddenly makes me think I got an idea that will work perfectly». For a birth announcement of two psychiatrists, he painted a baby hidden in a Rorschach test. For a couple who was getting married in South Africa but having the reception in Waltham, Gustafson wanted to create a 13-panel map that would span the Atlantic Ocean.

One of his invitations

«Every time I showed his work to a client, they either burst out laughing or they were in awe», says Nick Nicholson, who worked at the luxury stationery company, Mrs. John L. Strong.

«He sees and understands the details», says Nicholson, now a private art dealer in New York. Nicholson recalls how Gustafson once did a drawing of a house for a bride who, upon seeing the sketch, was thrilled that he paid attention to a bush in front of the house that she loved.

«I always describe him as a marvelous mad genius», says Nola Anderson, a longtime client and friend, for whom Gustafson most recently made an 8-foot Eiffel Tower for her daughter’s class trip to Paris. «He is extremely intelligent and has a wide range of interests and sense of humor and it comes through in a lot of his work. He’s a serious artist but he’s not serious».

An artist from a young age, Gustafson developed his interest for calligraphy from his parents. His mother was the calligrapher for a church and he always admired his father’s strange, vertical handwriting, he says.

Gustafson was trained to draw and paint and received a bachelor’s and master’s degree in fine arts. In his last year of undergrad school at Michigan, he started making entire rooms filled with life-sized paper objects — chairs, stoves, staircases — objects so realistic that a plumber once sat on a paper chair and flattened it.

But the work was not satisfying for Gustafson, and when an opportunity arose to buy a pen company based in Vermont, he jumped on it and fixed and sold pens for about 10 years. Gustafson then did some illustrations for a pen magazine and after moving into Brickbottom 25 years ago began doing calligraphy for residents who owned a paper company and found himself enjoying it.

«I thought, gosh, I miss drawing on flat paper. I haven’t done that in a long time».

In the 20 years since he started doing calligraphy full time, word has steadily spread about his clever and quirky invitations, envelopes, and monograms and his chaotic studio.

Much like the treasured antiques in his cluttered apartment, the magic of Gustafson’s work can be found in the details.

«With old drawing instruments and old typewriters, you see the nature of the object. It’s not hidden by fancy bells or whistles», he says as Bing Crosby’s «I’ll Be Seeing You» crackles from his Victrola. «You can look at the grooves, the bumps in the grooves of the record. There’s no magic in it, but it’s all magic».