Spencer Bailey

SAIC SHOWS 2025 GRADUATE EXHIBITIONS

Graduates

SAIC SHOWS 2025 GRADUATE EXHIBITIONS

Master of Fine Arts in Studio, Visual Communication Design (Graphic Design)

Spencer Bailey is a graphic designer with a background in photography from southern Missouri who’s resided in Chicago for the past eight years. He graduated magna cum laude from Loyola University Chicago’s Quinlan School of Business in 2021 with a degree in Marketing.

Most of his work revolves around antiquated communication methods and past technologies, including postcards, film photography, print ephemera, and VHS. His work often explores themes related to the city of Chicago, lost histories, imagined possibilities, and unrealized potential.

I Believe I Willed it, November 18, 1965, Postcard, Epson Scanner, 3.5 x 5.5 in., Written by Margaret Fry Griesel

"Hi Sweetie – That was the nicest telephone call the other night. I believe I \"willed\" it – I had a terrible time walking past the phone all evening I wanted to call you all so badly. Funny isn\'t it how it happens sometimes? Love, Margy xx

Spencer Bailey - Buckingham Fountain Postcard Overlay

Buckingham Fountain Postcard Overlay, February 22, 2025, Postcard, Canon AE-1 Program, Kodak Ultramax 400 film, Epson scanner

In an antique store, spread across binders and boxes, I found 129 postcards written by the same person. As I read through them, I grew captivated by the voice preserved in blue ink—a woman named Margy. Her warmth, humor, and optimism sparked a curiosity in me that I hadn’t experienced before.

Clues from the postcards guided me through archives and records, each uncovering a new thread to follow and illuminating a new detail in her story. Our paths seemed to cross in many ways as she frequented areas I know well and shared a love for the city with bright optimism that reminded me of myself.

This book not only touches on what I know about Margy’s story, but how I grew to know a person that I’ll never get to meet. It’s an exploration of connection across time and the fragments we leave behind when we’re gone.

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