Harland Miller’s High on Hope (2019) is an uplifting yet subtly ironic work that merges the artist’s love of mid-century Penguin book design with his signature blend of painterly texture, literary reference, and layered wordplay. In this piece, Miller reimagines the iconic Penguin paperback cover format, transforming it into a vehicle for a message that hovers between optimism and wistful longing.
The composition is structured around the familiar tri-band Penguin layout, with a rich golden-orange hue framing a pale, slightly weathered central panel. At the top, in a refined serif font, Harland Miller is printed in deep red, asserting the author-as-artist identity that runs through much of Miller’s oeuvre. Across the centre, the title High on Hope is written in a flowing, italicised script — a departure from the block typography seen in many of his works, and one that imbues the phrase with warmth, elegance, and an almost romantic sensibility.
Beneath the title, the classic black-and-white Penguin logo — here rendered in a harmonious red tone — stands as a playful nod to the history of Penguin Books while also serving as a recognisable anchor for Miller’s series. Flanking the penguin are two “6d” price marks, a further reference to the original retail cost of Penguin paperbacks, grounding the work in its nostalgic literary source material.
While the structure draws heavily from publishing design, the surface treatment pushes it into the realm of fine art. Miller’s painterly handling is evident in the textured layers of pigment, areas of scuffing, and patches where colour has been scraped back to reveal hints of underlying tones. These deliberate imperfections simulate the wear and tear of a well-travelled book, evoking the tactile pleasures of second-hand bookshops and the personal histories embedded in physical objects.
The phrase High on Hope is at once straightforward and ambiguous. On the surface, it radiates positivity, conjuring feelings of optimism, ambition, and forward-looking energy. Yet, in Miller’s hands, the phrase also invites more nuanced readings — the idea of being “high” on hope might suggest a state of euphoria that is unsustainable, fragile, or even delusional. This duality — between the sincerity of hope and the potential for its collapse — is a hallmark of Miller’s text-based works, which often balance humour and poignancy.
Colour plays a vital role in amplifying the work’s emotional impact. The warm spectrum of oranges, golds, and reds creates an atmosphere of comfort and light, while the distressed texture hints at the passage of time and the resilience of optimism even when battered by reality. The creamy off-white of the central panel acts as a gentle counterpoint, allowing the text to stand out while softening the overall intensity.
In High on Hope, Miller successfully fuses nostalgia for the printed word with contemporary art’s conceptual and material concerns. By recontextualising the humble paperback cover, he transforms it into a canvas for personal reflection, collective memory, and the bittersweet endurance of hope. The result is both visually engaging and emotionally resonant — a testament to his ability to make typography and colour speak directly to the viewer’s imagination.