Plate I · Selected work 2020—26 · 41°23′N 02°10′E
Visual systems for brands, founders, and after-hours culture.
Pau Morató, graphic designer in Barcelona.
Plate III · About · Specimen of the designer
Designer. Barcelona. Brand & content systems.
I work with founders and cultural projects that need a visual identity to hold up in a carousel, on a flyer, in a pitch deck — and, increasingly, in motion built with code.
Clients: solo founders · boutique agencies · event promoters. Currently taking on work for 2026.
A new Barcelona collective promoting industrial electronic events. Complete brand system from logo to event collateral — designed for their inaugural event and ongoing identity.
The brief was an event identity for an underground electronic night — something atmospheric enough to belong to the scene, structured enough to scale from flyers through motion to live signage. The constraint was a single accent — the metallic fragment mark — that had to hold at every size and survive formats it was never originally designed for. The tradeoff: I leaned hard into industrial restraint over decoration, trusting that one strong mark held with discipline would do more than a dozen variations.
A music collective built as ritual, not party.
Kømandø is a new Barcelona collective focused on industrial electronic events. A group of friends launching their first promotion with a clear vision: bring specific artists, create atmospheric experiences, avoid typical club marketing.
I designed their complete visual identity from zero — logo, aesthetic language, event flyers, social presence. Everything except promotional videos, which one member handles internally.
This case study documents the full system across six chapters: brief and context, creative direction, brand identity, campaign design, digital extensions, and live implementation.
Designed as ritual, not advertisement.
The aesthetic draws from abandoned industrial spaces — underground venues where light cuts through darkness. Deep reds against charcoal blacks. Metal and concrete textures. Typography that feels forged, not designed.
Three keywords guided every decision: atmospheric, underground, ceremonial. This is not club marketing; it's an invitation into a space. The visual language speaks to those who already understand.
References: derelict warehouses, brutalist architecture, gothic metal typography. Palette: void blacks, deep crimsons, metallic highlights. No bright colors, no clean surfaces, no comfort.
A campaign built for revelation, not advertising.
A complete promotional ecosystem for one event: teaser without lineup, full reveal with artists, two timetable options as the brand evolves, individual artist announcements. Each piece tuned to its purpose — mystery, then portrait, then arrival.
The atmospheric photography stays constant — abandoned spaces, red lighting, industrial textures. Typography hierarchy shifts with content density. The identity flexes but never breaks character.
From mystery (teaser) to announcement (lineup) to portrait (artists) to logistics (timetables). Told at every cadence for their inaugural event.
Static becomes ritual. Motion becomes atmosphere.
Five animated treatments extend the campaign beyond static posts. Each animation matches its purpose: sinister glitch for the teaser, metallic shimmer for the lineup reveal, industrial decay for the timetables, ritualistic countdown as the date approaches.
No smooth transitions or polished effects. Everything feels harsh, mechanical, abandoned. Flickering lights, metal textures, dark matter distortions. Motion that makes the viewer stop scrolling and enter the space.
The goal: transform promotional content into atmospheric experience. Make people feel the venue before they arrive.
The work in the wild. Event pending.
May 16th approaches. The identity lives on Instagram, TikTok, and Resident Advisor's event listings. On RA, Kømandø cuts through the noise — dark, atmospheric, uncompromising among the bright promotional clutter.
Early response confirms the approach: the aesthetic stops scrolls, builds anticipation without explanation. The work speaks to those who understand. 74 people attending and growing.
Documentation pending: event photography, crowd response, flyers in physical space. One month until the complete story.
Presskits for electronic artists. One repeatable system, tuned per artist.
Three artists, three different sounds, one workable system — a presskit format reusable per artist without going template-y. The constraint was that deliverables had to be both print-quality (A4, exportable) and a live document, with clickable links to SoundCloud, Bandcamp, Instagram. The tradeoff: I fixed everything — grid, type, page architecture — except one variable, the accent colour, so each artist still feels distinct without breaking the system.
Presskits for electronic artists. One repeatable system, tuned per artist.
A disciplined 8-page architecture — cover, about, live, tracks, riders, contact — shared across every commission. The grid stays. The type stays. The palette changes with the artist.
Every presskit is immersive — not a static PDF. Album covers link to SoundCloud or Bandcamp. Video thumbnails open YouTube. Social icons open artist profiles. The presskit becomes a live portal, not just a page.
Powerful, precise, immersive — a hypnotic presence built on the weight of hardgroove and raw techno.
Cover · Bio · Live
Rider
Equipment · Contact
Experimental and tribal — deep atmospheres, shifting intensities, immersive sonic journeys.
Cover · Bio · Live
Rider
Equipment · Contact
Dark and hypnotic — ritualistic grooves, slow-burning atmospheres, after-hours ceremony.
Cover · Bio · Live
Rider
Equipment · Contact
Thirty-five LinkedIn styles nobody owns yet — each one ready for a founder to make their own.
Most feeds look the same, and no founder wants to start from a blank page. So I built a bank: thirty-five complete visual languages, each with its spec sheet and five animated post formats, designed in Figma with Claude in the loop. When a new client arrives we don’t start from zero — we pick a direction, and the system is already there.
Counted in the style bank · one Figma page per style · 175 exported loops · 30/10/2026
The format is the job. The style is the voice.
Every style answers the same five briefs. A cover where one large object is the information. A chart drawn in the style’s own language, never a generic chart painted over. A dense cheat sheet worth saving. A process of five to seven steps chained by one object — gears, pipes, rails. And a comparison: before and after, or one huge number.
Line them up and the system shows: the same job, thirty-five ways to say it.
Every idea drawn as a precision engineering sheet: blueprint paper, white line, one amber signal.
Three founders, one visual system. I run Arrel's LinkedIn design end to end — with Claude in the loop.
It started in August as a pitch: posts I had already made, re-skinned in their brand. Two months later it is the whole operation — a recipe of numbered rules, three styles, a design system in Figma, a weekly illustrated scene, motion on almost every post, and a board where every published piece is filed by founder and month.
Counted on Arrel's POSTED POST board in Figma · read 30/10/2026
Every brief becomes three designs, never one in three colours.
Each week Jan sends the briefs. Every post comes back as three different designs, one per style: one brand-new, one built from the template bank, one close to the reference. A change asked on one version reaches its sisters; the new design goes into the template bank.
The rules live in one file — numbered, dated, quoted. When a rule changes, the number changes, not the habit. That is how three founders can post every week without the brand drifting.
Claude does the heavy lifting inside Figma and the repo: building versions, animating, filing. I set the direction, run the art-director pass and keep the system honest.
Black that turns pine green. Glass cards with a rim of light, white type, mint accents with a soft halo.
Metallic graphite with steel glass. The small pieces and the highlight keep Midnight's green.
White paper with the roots in warm grey, pine-green ink, pills and highlights in pine.
Click a swatch to copy its hex
Once a week, one post leaves the styles behind.
A fully illustrated scene where one giant object carries the information — a pyramid, a windmill, a coffee roastery, a print shop, a library, thirty years stacked floor by floor. Text sits on the object, the rooms are cut away, the landscape is full of small people at work.
No card grid dressed up as a scene. The object is the diagram. Each one loops as a living diorama.
Motion that explains, not motion that decorates.
Ants carry each lead down the pipeline, a 24-hour clock runs the jobs from the terminal, fifteen skills come to life card by card. Every moving part carries a piece of the argument, and every loop closes on its first frame so the post can play forever.
Built in Figma Motion, checked frame by frame, exported light enough to post.
Every published piece is moved, not copied, from the lab into its founder's month, under a pill with its posting date. Posts without a date in their name stay in their own block — no invented dates.
Two marks shipped, two different worlds. One paid commission for a Catalan business association; one live brand for a hospital workers' Olympic event, running at @bcnsalutgames.
Sustainable spaces. Stronger futures.
A visual identity for the Associació d'Empresaris/es i Propietaris/es dels Polígons d'Activitat Econòmica de Manlleu i les Masies de Voltregà — a regional Catalan business association of industrial polígons, commissioned and paid. Usually this brief ends in a corporate sans and a glass-and-steel render. The constraint was that the association's pitch is sustainability, but the audience is small-town business owners — modern, not techy; civic, not bureaucratic. The tradeoff: I rendered the polígons as living things — buildings with leaves growing through them — pushing toward eco-architecture and away from generic local-government work.
Building today. Inspiring tomorrow.
Salut Games is the Olympic Games for hospital workers — healthcare staff competing in athletic events. The mark has to hold both halves at once: the athlete on the track, and the worker in the ward.
The constraint was that healthcare brands skew sterile, sports brands skew aggressive — neither tone fit. The tradeoff: a single hand-painted brushstroke for the runner, paired with a hand-drawn heart-and-cross — texture instead of polish, gesture instead of geometry. Delivered for someone I knew, the mark went on to become the brand's working identity, now live at @bcnsalutgames.
Black shadow + red body. A runner mid-stride, motion compressed into one painted gesture. Red carries forward; black anchors behind. Speed and weight together — a pulse on the move.
Hand-painted, not vectorised. This is a brand for people who heal — texture beats precision. The roughness is the point: it reads as human, not corporate.
The small mark in the upper right is what pins it to healthcare. Without that heart-and-cross, this is just a sports logo. With it, the runner is unmistakably one of them.
The mark is alive — BCN Salut Games runs it across an active Instagram presence and a proposed web identity. Real audience, real reach.
Plate IX · Colophon
Open to studio roles, freelance commissions, and anything in between. Brand, editorial, after-hours culture.
This portfolio is my design CV. Read it slowly.
