Painting a New Path

Artist, Dave Arnold, at his Montreal studio with the custom Haws Warley Fall in Berry.

Goodee Presents

Painting a New Path

Montreal artist Dave Arnold on the ritual of reinvention, inspiring the next generation of artists, and finding joy in a garden of his own making.

Words by Alexia Jacquot

Images by Celia Spenard-Ko

Sign Painting images c/o Dave Arnold

Montreal wouldn't quite be Montreal without Mr. Sign. If you’ve ever wandered its streets, there’s a good chance you’ve seen the work of Dave Arnold (the artist behind the name), maybe without even realizing it. His hand-painted signs are stitched into the fabric of the city, from Saint-Henri to the Mile End and countless places in between, gracing beloved restaurants like Joe Beef, Nora Gray, Vin Papillon, as well as iconic institutions like Cirque du Soleil. More than just lettering, his signs carry a nostalgic warmth, the kind of human touch that gives a place its soul.

The tools I really am connected to the most are the ancient ones, I love the feeling of a pencil on a piece of paper. I love the feeling of a paintbrush on a smooth surface.

For over two decades, Dave has quietly shaped the visual rhythm of the city, first experimenting, pencil and brush in hand, in a makeshift loft studio shared with friends. But change, as he’ll tell you, has a way of nudging us forward. When we spoke in late May, he had just moved into a new space and was preparing to produce a limited run of hand-painted Haws watering cans in collaboration with Goodee. It is a moment of transition — one that has him taking stock of his practice, his path, and what it means to pass the craft on.

Mr. Sign
Dave’s hand-painted signs can be spotted across the city — from iconic spots like Joe Beef, Vin Papillon and Nora Gray to beloved local gems like September Surf Cafe.

Dave’s work may now live out in the open, but long before his brush touched a windowpane, drawing was a private world he kept to himself. “I always loved drawing. It was always sort of like the quiet, safe place... The noise of the world would instantly go away as soon as I’m sitting at a desk and getting lost in the little image that was being created.” He found out he had ADHD in his teens, though what he experienced was less about distraction and more about tunnel-vision; an ability to go deep, to lock in, especially when it came to drawing. “There’s a thing called hyperfocus, where if there’s something that does appeal to you, you are not distracted. You’re so almost psychotically hyper-focused on little details... I was doing that with drawing.” 

That early pull toward art was nurtured at home, where his dad, though not a professional artist, sketched cars with uncanny precision. “My brother and I got into drawing pretty early on. And my dad would always encourage that. [...] Anytime we were about to watch movies or play video games or do anything that he didn’t sort of deem a good use of our time… the three recommendations were always: draw a picture, read a book, or go outside. He’s like, if you do one of those three, that’s going to actually build something.”

The Goodee x Dave Arnold Collaboration in Green, shown in his Montreal studio — with elements of his painting process visible above.

Later, his passion would find a louder echo in a rough-around-the-edges Montreal loft he moved into in 2004 with three friends from Ontario. They were in their mid-twenties, chasing artistic beginnings, sleeping in raised beds above their desks, and figuring it out as they went. “The first five years,” Dave recalls, “was sort of like a Peter Pan clubhouse setup.” As time passed and housemates moved on, Dave remained, gradually carving out a space that was equal parts studio and emotional anchor. But eventually, something started to shift. The neighbourhood had changed, and so had his sense of what he needed and where he was headed. “I wasn’t still there because it was a good idea,” he admits. “I was there because of the emotional weight... the history, the security blanket of being in the same place for 20 years.” The rituals he’d built around his work no longer held the meaning they once did, and what had once grounded him started to feel limiting. It was, as he puts it, time for the creative workspace to change as well. “It’s not even a new chapter; a whole new book has been started,” he offers with a grin and a spark in his eye. 

Still, some things haven’t changed: Dave's process remains rooted in time-honoured tools and techniques. In a world that’s increasingly digitalized, he continues to work by hand, slowly, deliberately, using traditional materials like squirrel-hair brushes, not out of nostalgia, but because they feel intuitive, keeping him close to the gesture and the line. “The tools I really am connected to the most are the ancient ones,” he explains. “I love the feeling of a pencil on a piece of paper. I love the feeling of a paintbrush on a smooth surface.” 

He continues to work by hand, slowly, deliberately, using traditional materials like squirrel-hair brushes, not out of nostalgia, but because they feel intuitive.

That same connection to materials, to the act of making, found new expression in his recent collaboration with Goodee. While sign painting demands controlled precision, working on the Haws watering cans offered a different kind of beauty: ultimate freedom, play, and joyful spontaneity. The idea of the floral motif started with five bare flower centers, an album cover designed by Gordon Ball, a longtime friend and fellow artist now based in LA. Dave, who admits the lack of petals “drove him insane,” got his friend’s blessing to “run with it.” What followed was pure play. Using diluted paint in a ketchup bottle, he began dripping out long, meandering stems, and the process soon took on a life of its own.

Glimpses into Dave's Wildflower series. The idea of the floral motif started with five bare flower centers, an album cover designed by Gordon Ball, a longtime friend and fellow artist now based in LA.

“The more I did it, the more fun I got where I was like, this is the ultimate creative escape... You can't mess it up. You can just get lost in it. You're painting a garden.” For someone used to obsessing over symmetry — where a misaligned T can throw everything off — this new project was a breath of fresh air. “If you look at a garden with 8,000 flowers in it,” he says, “you can find billions of imperfections... That one's crooked. That petal is brown. That one has a bug on it. And it's all perfect.” The joy he found in the process is readily apparent: Garden or not, it’ll be hard not to want one of these cans.

Away from the studio, something else has been taking root: a significant shift in Dave's relationship with sharing his art and connecting with others. The nature of sign painting itself — being out in the streets, working on ladders, and visible to passersby — has always invited interaction, a part of the job that Dave has long appreciated. Now, with two young kids watching, that openness is starting to feel more meaningful, sparking a new willingness to share what once felt deeply personal. Parenthood does shift your perspective, often in ways you don’t expect.

“Rather than hiding in a cave, I’m realizing there’s value, to myself and to a lot of other people, just to present [sign painting] as an option. There’s a lot of different paths out of the forest.”

Inside the space where ideas take shape — tools, paint, and all.

These days, Dave is meeting up with other painters, dreaming up workshops, and embracing the joy of finding kindred spirits. “It’s fun when you bump into other people who hate a crooked T as much as you do.” He’s thinking about the future of the craft, too. “Let me share some of this knowledge,” he says. “It just feels like the right time."

"It’s fun when you bump into other people who hate a crooked T as much as you do.”

For Dave, those breadcrumbs he’s left across the city have become their own kind of legacy. Not loud declarations, but subtle invitations to pause, pay attention, and maybe even pick up a brush of your own. A legacy that honors the past while opening the door to what’s still possible.

An extension of Dave's 'Wildflowers' series in Green and Berry.

Shop the exclusive Goodee x Dave Arnold collaboration, an extension of his 'Wildflowers' series, in-store. To learn more about each hand-painted piece click here.