Event brand identity, strategy, website. Role as Designer (inc UI).

Davide Mancini (CD and brand owner), Kevin Nijland (motion designer)

A summit about what comes next: the room where AI would meet the future of mobility. Woven Capital is Toyota's growth-stage venture fund - the part of the business placing bets on what mobility becomes next. For its Global CEO Summit in Tokyo, the fund needed a cohesive event identity, built to meet high expectations on a short timeline: an identity that could hold its own in a room of founders, investors and Toyota leadership, all gathered around the same questions: what's next, what it means for the future of how the world moves and who is building it?

The brief came with a tension built in. Toyota carries one of the most recognisable brand systems in the world - decades of equity, rigour and rules. Woven Capital needed to honour all of it, while making clear it isn't a heritage play. It's the bet on what comes next.

A connected identity system was built - logo, palette, typography, texture and motion - designed to behave as one language across every surface the summit touched. Landing page, speaker cards, email signatures and print. Each piece had to feel like the same conversation, picked up mid-sentence. The strategic move was deciding where Toyota ended and Woven began. The system didn't sit on top of the main brand or besides it - it extended from it, towards the future. A system that earned its consistency from how rigorously it was built, not from how loud it was. Built once. Read fluently everywhere.

The system held the room. Across the landing page, speaker cards, print and signage, the same visual language carried the summit end to end, giving founders, investors and Toyota leadership one continuous experience to gather around. It positioned Woven Capital as a serious voice in the future of mobility - not a satellite of its parent brand, but its clearest expression of where the company is headed. Toyota's heritage stayed present without holding the room back, proof that what comes next can still speak fluently in the language of what came before.

The summit was built on three subjects we refused to let sit still - AI, the future, and mobility. Motion wasn't a layer of the identity, but the language it was written in. We built a language of forward motion - one that moved like it knew the way. An identity for a summit that wasn't asking if things were changing, but how fast and towards what. That dynamism held the connective tissue of the whole system, carrying the same logic across every format the summit touched.

Brand ownership concept: Davide Mancini (CD). Collaboration: Kevin Nijland (motion designer).

Visual language, brand devices, iconography system. Role as Concept lead and Designer.

BUX is Europe's fastest growing neobroker, making it easy and affordable for Europeans to do more with their money since 2014. But a broker is, by definition, an abstraction - a person or company who buys and sells goods or assets for others. And its products are abstractions too. A stock, an ETF, a fractional share, a savings plan: there is nothing there to photograph. Most brokers solve this by not solving it. Stock photography, generic upward charts, an icon set borrowed from every other fintech. The category all looks the same because the category is all describing the same invisible thing. Meanwhile, the actual differentiator sat in the offer. Not only the assets a regular broker provides - stocks, ETFs, crypto - but pioneering products such as fractional shares, fractional ETFs and savings plans. That range had a structure: fractionals derive from stocks and ETFs, a savings plan combines all of it. It was the clearest argument BUX had, and the brand had no way of showing it. The problem was never a missing illustration style. It was that the product logic was invisible.

Rather than draw an icon per product, I designed a grammar and let the products spell themselves. Two shapes carry it. The square - stability, security and trust. Straight lines and right angles, a mathematical and balanced feel; rational, practical, conforming. The circle - unity, community and cyclic movement. It stands for BUX's continuous expansion of new assets. From there each product is a sentence rather than a symbol. Stocks: a grid of squares as the corporation, one circle lifted out of it - the piece you own. Fractional shares: the same squares split on the diagonal into slices, while the circle stays whole. The share is divided, the ownership isn't. You hold a smaller piece, not a lesser kind of ownership. Crypto is four blocks locked around a circular void: the blockchain, and at its centre the coin that only exists because of it. That circle is also you - the holder - because the circle never changes its meaning anywhere in the system. It also reads a third way: the network of users the chain actually runs on. One shape, three readings, all true at once. ETFs and savings plans resolve the same way, by composition rather than invention. A system is only a system if it outlives its author. Another designer should be able to build a device for a product that didn't exist yet, using only the square and the circle, without me in the room. If it needs a new shape, the grammar failed.

A grammar is only worth having if it flexes. I stress-tested the system across roundness and stroke weight - from hard geometric through outlined to fully rounded - to find how far the shapes could bend before the meaning broke. They bend less than you'd want them to. Rounding the square softens exactly the property it was chosen for: the right angle is the stability. And past a certain radius the square and the circle stop being two distinct signs, which collapses a system of two into a system of one. The system holds at hard geometry and solid fills, and the warmth BUX needs is carried by colour and composition instead. Charm was the cheaper thing to give up, legibility was the whole asset. Colour was tested the same way, but the palette was found rather than invented. Amaranth is BUX's primary colour and the devices are native to it. The secondaries I paired it with - the teals, blues, aubergine, sand and maroon - were already in use across BUX's illustrations. Pulling them in was the whole point: it kept the devices inside the brand's existing colour reality instead of opening a second visual world that the illustration work would have to be reconciled with later. Built as two-tone pairs, each device holds up in any of those combinations, because the meaning lives in the geometry rather than the colour. The palette can move, the language doesn't. And because the devices are built on a grid, that grid doubles as a mask. Photography drops into the same square-and-circle structure, which stops imagery and iconography competing and makes them one voice. Applied, it scales down to posters, performance banners, app-store cards, social, out-of-home and in-app education.

The system gave BUX something a style can't: an argument. Every shape decision traced back to a product truth, which moves a brand conversation from taste to logic - and logic is the only currency that travels in a company where design sits between product, marketing and compliance. It also made the offer visible. Mapping stocks, ETFs, crypto, fractionals and savings plans as one constructed family put BUX's product hierarchy into a single frame for the first time, and made the pioneering end of the range - the part regular brokers don't have - the most visually distinctive part of the brand rather than a footnote in the copy. The wider proposition is the one I'd take to any abstract product: a brand this intangible doesn't have to borrow its imagery from the category. Given few enough parts and a strict enough grammar, it can build its own. Everything it makes afterwards is legible for a reason, not just consistent by rule.