Parallel Vision

Two Angelenos shaped by the city’s streets – its music, art, and shifting scenes, Carlos and Brice built –ism as print ritual and cultural hub. Fairfax is home, but their reach keeps expanding.

What are your earliest memories of growing up in Los Angeles?

Brice: I grew up in Pomona, but LA was always where I wanted to be. My family was out here, so any real culture I soaked up came from LA. I used to ride into the city and just feel it hit me. I’d daydream about having something of my own out here. Always felt like the goal.

Carlos: I grew up in South Central LA and I have a ton of memories growing up in the city, mainly as a teenager. I was bussed to the Westside for high school and got a total culture shock when I got there. I remember skipping school to go stand in line at Supreme on Fairfax when there were only 10–20 people in line and we all knew each other from internet forums or riding the bus to La Brea and seeing Mos Def skating out of Union. Early days of a subculture that is now popular culture in LA.

“Fairfax used to feel like a creative mecca – a safe haven, like a clubhouse for kids who had nowhere else to go.” — Brice

When you think back to your teenage years, who made up your world – skaters, graffiti writers, musicians, artists?

Brice: I was a church kid and played sports. My world was the band, the choir, my pastors, and coaches. My mom was my hero. Then came radio, 92.3 The Beat. I’d stay up late on Fridays dubbing tapes, listening to world premieres. Snoop, Dre, Suga Free was our Superman in Pomona. DJ Quik, Jay Z, Em, Doom, Dilla, Pac Div, Dom Kennedy, Pu$haz Ink, Gucci, Pharrell, The Clipse, State Property, No Limit, Cash Money. I used to steal my cousin’s CDs and play something new every day walking to school. I spent summers in Texas and fell in love with Screw music. That’s what made me want to DJ.

Carlos: A bit of everyone to be honest. I think it had a lot to do with my neighborhood and being exposed to people outside of it. To this day I’m grateful for unknowingly being so open-minded at a young age – it’s what set the foundation for what I do today and the people we get to work with.

How has Fairfax Ave shifted over the years?

Brice: Fairfax used to feel like a creative mecca. It was a safe haven – like a clubhouse for kids who had nowhere else to go. No judgment, just energy. You’d see the next designer, athlete, artist, porn star, rapper, whoever just posted on the block. Then it got commodified. Became a destination. The cycle hit. The block got quiet. Our heroes grew up, the glow faded, money dried up. Now we’ve got an office there. We tell the stories of then and now. Feels good to be back. Still feels like home.

Carlos: Fairfax was the West Coast epicenter for this rising subculture. It went through a cycle and has now hit a bit of a restart, back to what I remember it being when I first started coming around at 15 years old. There are maybe two or three stores here but all the originals are gone, just empty storefronts as a reminder of their existence.

How long have you known each other, and what first brought you together?

Brice: I’ve known Carlos for over 10 years. We met through a shared love of design and culture and that’s still what keeps us tight.

Carlos: I met Brice maybe in 2019ish with a couple other mutual friends that had come out to LA. The I.E. to LA pilgrimage as I like to call it. We had a lot of parallels in interest and were just always around each other. We’re more like brothers – you’ll see that if you spend time around us. Thankful for our bond and it’s a contributing factor to why we work together.

Where did the idea for –ism come from, and what does the name mean to you now?

Brice: –ism came from necessity. We were looking for a way to connect with our community. Carlos brought the name – it stands for a belief system. Everyone has an ism. I still carry that same belief system. I know Carlos does too.

Carlos: I had this idea for –ism around 2019. I wanted to make a blog or interview site, actually similar to what you do here. I wanted to highlight all my friends and highlight their “isms” and processes.

In 2020, we experienced social injustice front and center since we were all locked down and glued to our phones. I came to Brice and said how do we connect with people, this shit is isolating and I know people want to talk. We hosted a Zoom and people came, talked, listened, and participated. I wanted to raise funds for different causes and organizations in LA to support the arts and our network was made up of artists and designers so I asked everyone to contribute something and we put out a zine – Community Vol. 1. Then we made two more volumes and started publishing books and zines for our friends.

–ism still means the same to me. It’s about you, your belief system, your way of doing things.

“I remember skipping school to stand in line at Supreme when there were only 10–20 people there and we all knew each other from internet forums.” — Carlos

How do you divide roles at –ism, or is it more of a fluid partnership?

Brice: It’s fluid, but Carlos leads on creative. We share everything else – ops, partnerships, marketing, ideas.

Carlos: It’s very fluid. We don’t do anything without both of us being on board.

Was being primarily print-based a conscious decision?

Brice: Absolutely. Print feels like art to me. It’s tradition, it’s ritual. The idea that our work is sitting on a shelf, table, or wall waiting to be found – that’s what keeps me going.

Carlos: I don’t think I consciously intended to be print-based but it felt right. I have a huge collection of books and ephemera and I have a huge appreciation for the art form. Once we made the Community zine and it was well received, and more than anything I enjoyed making it, I knew there was something there.

The Nike Toma El Juego project brought together sport, publishing, and community. How did you approach football as an art form?

Brice: There’s an art to the game – everyone plays it their own way. That’s why there are so many greats. We took that mindset and stepped outside traditional storytelling. We worked with artists and contributors who love the game and express it through their own mediums.

What sparked the idea for Hard Copy?

Brice: We wanted a way for our digital community to meet IRL.

Carlos: We also wanted to bring other publishers and artists together. We know there are other publishers making books and we want to bring them out for Hard Copy – we want our community to become theirs as well.

“I see everything I do as one body of work – DJing, publishing, connecting people – it all complements each other.” — Brice

Outside of -ism you’re both balancing a lot – Carlos with raising two young kids, Brice with DJ life at night. How do those worlds intersect with and influence the work you do here?

Carlos: Honestly, I have no idea. Haha! My wife really holds it down and gives me the space to make things happen. Considering that when I’m on a call or working on a project I usually have two girls peeking at the screen I think I do okay. Somehow it all gets done!

Brice: It’s been a healthy and unhealthy balance fueled by obsession.

I love connecting people – DJing became a way to do that and took me around the world. I see everything I do as one body of work. It all complements each other. It’s my life’s work.

Looking ahead, what’s next for –ism?

Carlos: We’ve got some great projects coming out with some amazing artists before the end of the year as well as some book fairs and events we’ll be putting together and participating in. I try my best to work with what’s in front of us and do things as fluid as possible.

To finish – what are your top five Fairfax spots right now?

Brice: Nothing, shout out Trophies tho hahahahahaha.

Carlos: Our studio, GG’s Coffee, and Trophies.

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