Deanne Cheuk Is the Original Font Whisperer

Deanne Cheuk’s work has always felt part dream, part design. The kind of typography that doesn’t look written so much as conjured, like it bloomed overnight under some cosmic lamp light. I first locked into her work during the Tokion era, a glorious New York-based magazine where the layouts looked like they'd been built during a lucid dream, one layer of weird beauty at a time. Her pages never behaved like traditional editorial. They danced, they looped, they whispered.

Years later, when I was editing an Australian mag called Stu, I somehow convinced Deanne to art direct a special New York issue. What she delivered wasn’t just a design treatment. It was a full-blown visual spell. Custom fonts, line-drenched madness, and a kind of quiet intensity that made the pages hum. It was like tossing her a magazine and watching it reincarnate as an illustrated cult manifesto with great taste and better handwriting.

Later, when I was editing Riot - another Australian culture mag with a thing for the offbeat and occasionally unhinged - I’d send one of our art directors up the street to the local newsagent to grab the latest Tokion. Not for the articles (though they were decent), but for whatever visual magic Deanne had cooked up that month. Her layouts were wild, elegant, untamed. The typefaces didn’t behave, they bloomed like they'd been genetically engineered in a secret greenhouse for graphic design outlaws. Letters stretched and refused to sit still. Like the alphabet had been rewilded.

By the time Lost At E Minor launched - our digital altar to art, culture, and glorious weirdness - Deanne’s work had become a recurring fixture, not out of habit, but because it never stopped blindsiding us. Each new piece felt like it arrived via séance or signal flare, a reminder that design could still surprise you. When I finally moved to New York in 2007 and we met in real life, she was, thankfully, exactly as imagined: gracious, sharp, and unbothered by hype. No performance. No curated persona. Just a human conduit for a visual language built on ink, instinct, and whatever rare atmosphere she happens to be tuned into that day.

I. BEGINNINGS & BELIEF

You landed a job as a magazine art director at just 19 in Perth. What did that feel like and did it shape how you approach projects now?
Yes, I remember feeling thrilled to be trusted to creatively steer a publication I was a fan of (REVelation magazine). That was my first foray into editorial design, and I learned to approach each spread as an image, making the headline and copy as important as the visuals.

At 23 you were publishing your own magazine, MU. What sparked that leap, and what did you learn?
While I was away in Prague, I found out REVelation had closed. Around the same time I was reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and came across the Japanese concept of "mu" - the middle ground between yes and no. That became the conceptual core for MU. The biggest lessons? That my community of artists was strong (many of us are still close), and that what I liked resonated with others too. MU was pure taste-driven curation. That made it unique.

II. EXPERIMENT & INSTINCT

You moved to New York and took the reins at Tokion, where your wild hand-drawn typographic layouts became signature. What was that like?
It probably couldn’t happen now, but I had total freedom. The design was organic and rooted in whatever I was into at the time. One memory that sticks out is sketching an idea on a bus ride. I was thinking about mountains and typography, and I wanted to merge the two. I loved executing strange ideas and seeing them connect.

Your work often includes psychedelic lettering, mushrooms, and surreal elements. Was that style intentional or accidental?
It all just emerged, and it still is. I ended up with watercolour (and now charcoal) after I physically couldn’t spend long hours on the computer anymore. My ideas riff off each other. That keeps me moving.

You’ve said you love "magic and fantasy" and believe we’re the sum of our experiences. How does that shape your work or your collaborations?
I don’t think my work is done until it gives me that magical feeling. Sometimes that’s what’s missing, a final bit of sparkle or surrealism. And thinking about us as the sum of our experiences helps with empathy in collaborations. Everyone brings something.

III. JUGGLING WORLDS

You call yourself a "Transitionist," balancing design to pay the bills and art to feed the soul. How do you manage both without burning out?
The balance keeps shifting. Lately my full-time work is the focus, but I still take on commissions after hours. I’ve kept my commercial and personal work separate, and when I try to combine them, it doesn’t always work.

At one point you were working three jobs: design by day, freelance by night, and making zines in between. How did you keep going?
I was younger and had endless energy. Work was my caffeine! I’m very zen about work. I know it always gets done.

Your $1 art zine NEOMU had a big impact. What was the spark, and why do you think it connected with so many people?
One night in a bookstore in NYC I was flipping through a $50 design book and thought, why can’t something be inspiring on every page and cheap or free? I missed publishing MU, so I launched NEOMU as the "new MU." It came from a desire to spread inspiration: contributors, readers, and even the charities that got the proceeds. It was all authentic. That’s why it connected.

IV. CREATIVE CONFIDENCE

You worked with David Carson early on in NYC. How did that shape your confidence?
I reached out before I moved, and he brought me on to work with him one-on-one. That experience gave me real confidence, knowing someone you admire trusts your judgment.

By the mid-2000s, you were on Time’s "Best People of 2004" and Print’s "20 Under 30." Did that recognition change anything?
It was surreal and exciting! Especially being featured in The Face around the same time, which was a magazine I adored. But I mostly just kept doing my thing.

You’ve said you had a lot of self-doubt early on. Does that still show up?
Not anymore. I’ve never really had creative blocks either, just not enough time.

V. ROOTS & RHYTHM

How have Perth and New York each shaped your creative voice?
There’s no direct trace of Perth in the work, but going back each year is essential for my well-being. It fuels me for the year ahead.

You’ve worked with brands like Nike and Apple, while also doing passion projects. How do you keep your voice intact across that spectrum?
Personal work has no brief or stylistic limits. That’s when I get to explore and discover new directions.

When you start a new piece, do you have rituals for finding that "newness"?
I usually dive right in. Sometimes the idea comes when I’m not working, and I save it for when there’s time to explore.

You used to watercolour and hand-stitch typography. With everything digital now, do you miss getting messy?
That’s what led me to charcoal. I love starting with a mess - dirty hands and paper - and then shaping it into something beautiful.

VI. FUTURE FUNGI

Your book Mushroom Girls Virus has such a curious name. What’s the story there?
I was drawing a lot of girls and mushrooms at the time, for both personal and commercial work. The title was organic. The idea of being infected by them just made sense. It was funny to me.

You co-founded a fashion line, Liness. How did that evolve?
Three of us were doing graphics and fashion for other brands. We wanted to create our own thing. Translating our work into real products was creatively fulfilling, but exhausting as a side hustle. We shut it down during our fourth collection.

Your career spans illustration, editorial, fashion, fine art. Do you have a favourite?
I love the variety. Every medium teaches me something new.

Nature pops up a lot in your art: mushrooms, flowers, cosmic elements. How do you stay connected to that in NYC?
Travel. And going back to Perth keeps me connected and inspired.

What’s next? Any creative frontiers you’re itching to explore?
I’m having fun with AI and 3D at the moment, and excited to play more with movement and video. Stay tuned!