Editor's note: The following article was originally published as part of City Weekly's 2024 Beer Issue.
As one of the last, true dive bars remaining in downtown Salt Lake City, the recent sale of Junior's Tavern had regulars curious as to the future of this quirky place, especially with the spot's ownership promising a small batch of changes to the decades-old pub.
As it turned out, the alterations came and then ... kept on coming. The place didn't quite get the kind of closed-for-two-weeks-now-everything's-different type of rehab seen on shows like Bar Rescue. Instead, the changes came quickly at first, then very, very slowly, with quite the transformation taking place over the past year (and change).
From a shift in staffing to an enhanced patio to a new interior design aesthetic that's straight outta your favorite makeover show's palette, Junior's ain't what it used to be. But that beer can collection—thank the renovation gods—stayed intact.
It's moved from a position near the tavern's front door to the back, true, but the display's still showcasing quite the array of vintage beer cans, a classic bit of old-school, barroom decoratin' that'll never completely go out of style. Corner bars and a good, in-house beer can collection go together like a pint and a shot (at least in most states).
We note that Utah's breweries continue to add to the lore of the beer can, with local and regional brands doing their best to bring new and interesting branding to life, in the form of 12- and 16-ounce vessels as well as 750-ml bottles, crowlers and all forms of associated, brand-centric merch.
At Epic Brewing Company, the responsibility for can designs is handled by someone familiar to those who stop by for a pint or some take-home product. Claire Frisbie had been bartending at Epic for a bit of time, thinking of opportunities to take her design skills to another level. But with one conversation turning into another, Frisbie found herself selling Epic's fine beers both as a bartender and as the lead designer of their cans and bottles, which can also turn into affiliated merch like hoodies, coasters and the like.
"Honestly, it's a dream job," Frisbie says. "I never thought I'd be designing beer can labels. I started working at Epic a little over a year ago as a bartender as I was trying to fill in a gap for a more serious job. And then this opportunity naturally happened, which was really cool."
Frisbie recalled how she was looking for a graphic design job when the bar's director of sales mentioned needing someone to sketch out new can labels.
"I gave it a shot. It's a fun job," she reports. "I don't really have a specific title, but I'm the graphic designer for the brewery and I work on other things like social media." Without knocking the brewery's former approach in the least, she says that she's brought a somewhat different angle to her role, as the brand had previously approached designs that were "pretty simple."
"They didn't have a lot of artwork on them. I wanted to change that when I stepped into this role," Frisbie explained. "There's so much potential. You want the artwork to catch your eye. I'm 26 and younger people really like the fun cans."
Frisbie said that a canned cocktail series in production will be offered as a line with similar artwork. But for the beers, she said she handles each release differently, with a product-by-product approach.
"With the canned cocktails, we've worked on a margarita and a mule," she disclosed. "A cosmo is next and we've gone through approving all that's needed for that label, which is super-girly and a cute label that people are really going to like."
The process, Frisbie says, is one of collaboration, with her role a central, but not exclusive one. "With the first label I did, I went into it a bit blindly," she recalled. "They've given me a lot of creative freedom."
Frisbie noted how the label on a can is often the first thing people see when they come in to buy a beer. She likes to lean into vibrancy, giving the example of a blood orange wheat pale ale that she paired with bright oranges, reds and yellows.
"The vibe I wanted was definitely funky," she said. "In my time here, everyone's been really cool and open to what I want to see, to my vision. So I send a proof and everybody puts in their two cents."
She starts by sketching different ideas on an iPad, then sifts through the candidates in consultation with the Epic team.
"I offer three options," she explained. "They choose which one they want and we go from there."
Frisbie said that when she looks at the offerings of other local beer retailers (at, say, a grocery store) her eye is frequently struck by the work done by Proper Brewing Company.
"I really like Proper's labels," she said. "They put all the specs and facts about the beers on their cans and it's always really fun to read those. That's something that I've thought about incorporating, too."
There's no doubt that brewers keep an eye on the work being done by others, be those national brands or the friendly competitors across town. Rob Phillips, who heads up RoHa Brewing Project, has some faves among his local brewing kin.
"I think there are a lot of great labels out there—some simple, some complex," he said. "But I think that the beer drinking community is loving the simple pattern style that is taking over; Fisher, TF, Offset all have this going on. I think Uinta has made some great labels, too, and they always stay true to brand, which is key. You can see a Uinta can from across the store, even if you don't know what it is."
Like other breweries with a smaller staff, the look and feel of RoHa's beers and merchandise are generally produced in-house, with only a small segment of that work outsourced.
Phillips recalled how the brewery hired "a kid named Nick Larson," who in 2017 was a graphic design student at the University of Utah.
His work on RoHa Brewing Project's logo and cans doubled as a senior project.
"When we initially came up with the design, we wanted a scientific feel with an outdoorsy vibe, so that hexagon [logo] represents some chemical-type feel, while its shape looks like a tree or some other outdoorsy branded emblem," Phillips said. "Nick has handled all can designs since inception—other than the Brewers Select, which was done by one of our employees Mason Powell, and our Hop Drop can concept came from another employee Kas Prestwich. Kas also does all the menu signs; an impressive artist."
While it might not be expressly noted on applications, to be hired at RoHa means you're probably inclined toward the outdoors life.
The brewery's staff tends to head outta town for weekend fun and the branding is a direct reflection on that generalized approach to life. "We want that outdoorsy vibe," Phillips noted. "We all love to get out into the mountains—biking, hiking, boating, skiing and all things in between."
Over time, the basics have been kept in place, though tweaks have been seen.
Their branding approach is an aspect of the company that has changed quite a bit, according to Phillips.
"When we launched, we knew we needed some simple design just to get beers on the market, but we learned pretty quickly that cool designs (and great liquid, of course), sell beer," he observed. "So we slowly started integrating some artwork into the background of our branding, and it helped sell the beer. So we continue down that path and include more cool artwork on cans while sticking to our branding roots."
His favorites from in-house? Phillips has some ideas.
"There are a few that I loved lately," he said. "Hoomba Bus IPA is one of my favorites; I just think Nick did a great job integrating so many neat elements. False Prophet Hazy IPA was one of our first really artwork-centric, break-from-the-mold options. And one that got discontinued was our Steady Edge Imperial Red Ale; I loved the desert theme it had."
There's little doubt that a few cans from the collected offerings of RoHa and Epic are today being washed, rinsed and saved, maybe even displayed in a nice case in someone's basement barroom.
And maybe a few will even find a home at a renovated dive bar in downtown Salt Lake someday, a nice contemporary complement to all that old-school cool.