A few weeks ago, my colleague Jessica Helfand posted an article on this site about the possible introduction of a national identification card here in the United States. Within an hour came the first comment: "What does this have to do with design? If you have a political agenda please keep it to other pages. I am not sure of your leaning but I come here for design."
I come here for design. Lawrence Weschler's recent article got some similar responses. ("Obscure references...trying to impress each other...please, can we start talking some sense?") In these cases, our visitors react like diners who just got served penne alla vodka in a Mexican restaurant: it's not the kind of dish they came for, and they doubt the proprietors have the expertise required to serve it up.
Guys, I know how you feel. I used to feel the same way.
More than twenty years ago, I served on a committee that had been formed to explore the possibilities of setting up a New York chapter of the AIGA. Almost all of the other committee members were older, well-known — and in some cases, legendary — designers. I was there to be a worker bee.
I had only been in New York for a year or so. Back in design school in 1970s Cincinnati, I had been starved for design. It would be hard for a student today to imagine a world so isolated. No email, no blogs. Only one (fairly inaccessible) design conference that no one I knew had ever attended. Because there were no AIGA chapters, there were no AIGA student groups. Few of us could afford subscriptions to the only design magazines I knew about, CA, Print and Graphis. Those few copies we got our hands on were passed around with the fervor of girlie magazines after lights out at a Boy Scout jamboree. No How, no Step, and of course no Emigre or dot dot dot. We studied the theory of graphic design day in and day out, but the real practice of graphic design was something mysterious that happened somewhere else. It wasn't even a subject for the history books: Phil Meggs wouldn't publish his monumental History of Graphic Design until 1983.
In New York, I was suddenly in — what seemed to me then, at least — the center of the design universe. There was already so much to see and do, but I wanted more. I was ravenous. Establishing a New York chapter for the AIGA would mean more lectures, more events, more graphic design. For the committee's first meeting, I had made a list of all designers I would love to see speak, and I volunteered to share it with the group.
A few names in, one of the well-known designers in the group cut me off with a bored wave. "Oh God, not more show and tell portfolio crap." To my surprise, the others began nodding in agreement. "Yeah, instead of wallowing in graphic design stuff, we should have something like...a Betty Boop film festival." A Betty Boop film festival? I wanted to hear a lecture from Josef Muller-Brockmann, not watch cartoons. I assumed my senior committee members were pretentious and jaded, considering themselves — bizarrely — too sophisticated to admit they cared about the one thing I cared about most: design. I was confused and crestfallen. Please, I wanted to say, can we start talking some sense?
I thought I was a pretty darned good designer back then. A few years before, in my senior year, I had designed something I was still quite proud of: a catalog for Cincinnati's Contemporary Arts Center on the work of visionary theater designer Robert Wilson. The CAC didn't hire me because I knew anything about Robert Wilson. I had never heard of him. More likely they liked my price: $1,000, all in, for a 112-page book, cheap even by 1980 standards.
The CAC's director, Robert Stearns, invited me to his house one evening to see the material that needed to be included in the catalog: about 75 photographs, captions, and a major essay by New York Times critic John Rockwell. I had never heard of John Rockwell. To get us in the mood, Stearns put on some music that he said had been composed by Wilson's latest collaborator. It was called Einstein on the Beach and it was weird and repetitive. The composer was Philip Glass. I had never heard of Einstein on the Beach or Philip Glass. Stearns gave me the album cover to look at. I noticed with almost tearful relief that it had been designed by Milton Glaser. I had heard of Milton Glaser.
I was completely unfazed by the fact I knew nothing about Robert Wilson, John Rockwell, Einstein on the Beach,or Philip Glass. In my mind, they were all tangential to the real work ahead, which would simply be to lay out 75 photographs and 8,000 words of text over 112 pages in a way that would impress the likes of Milton Glaser. With single-minded obliviousness, I plunged ahead, got the job done, and was quite pleased with the results.
About a year after my disappointing meeting with the planners of the AIGA New York chapter, I finally saw my first Robert Wilson production. It was the Brooklyn Academy of Music's 1984 revival of Einstein on the Beach. And sitting there in the audience, utterly transported, it came crashing down on me: I had completely screwed up that catalog. Seen live, Wilson's work was epic, miraculous, hypnotic, transcendent. My stupid layouts were none of those things. They weren't even pale, dim echoes of any of those things. They were simply no more and no less than a whole lot of empty-headed graphic design. And graphic design wasn't enough. It never is.
Over the years, I came to realize that my best work has always involved subjects that interested me, or — even better — subjects about which I've become interested, and even passionate about, through the very process of doing design work. I believe I'm still passionate about graphic design. But the great thing about graphic design is that it is almost always about something else. Corporate law. Professional football. Art. Politics. Robert Wilson. And if I can't get excited about whatever that something else is, I really have trouble doing good work as a designer. To me, the conclusion is inescapable: the more things you're interested in, the better your work will be.
In that spirit, I like to think that Design Observer is a place for people to read and talk about graphic design. But I also like to think that it's a place where someone might accidentally discover some other things, things that seem to have nothing to do with design: Ethiopian grave markers, Passover tales, 50-year-old experimental novels, cold war diplomacy. Hell, I wouldn't even mind a post on Betty Boop.
Not everything is design. But design is about everything. So do yourself a favor: be ready for anything.
Posted in: Graphic Design, Ideas, Theory + Criticism
Michael Bierut studied graphic design at the University of Cincinnati, and has been a partner in the New York office of Pentagram since 1990. Michael is a Senior Critic in Graphic Design at the Yale School of Art.
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03.18.06
06:34
03.18.06
06:40
That said, if I may play devil's advocate for a moment - of course you can write about whatever you want, but on a blog entitled Design Observer, expect non-design pieces to attract some flak.
The ID card piece in particular was good, but it would have been more of interest to this audience if it had also touched on the design issues surrounding it - the design of the system, the card itself, designing against fraud and misuse, comparing other national ID card designs...
I understand where these commenters are coming from, to some extent. For many, sites like this are a bit of a lifeline - and by many, I mean, the majority of designers working today, most likely self-taught desktop publishers, living in non-glamourous places barely eking out a living. We love design, but didn't or couldn't go to design school, and thus turn to books, magazines, and the Web.
By dismissing the concerns of loyal readers - who wouldn't comment if they didn't feel attached to this site, part of a community - I'm sure they feel now as you did in that first AIGA NY committee...Except they're not even in New York City, nor are they invited to the meeting.
The cry for design-oriented content may seem parochial from some contributors' lofty perches in the American design establishment, but dismiss the yawp of the "booboisie" at your peril. If we didn't read this blog and comment on it - if we didn't link to it and heighten its Google rank - then it wouldn't have quite so high a profile, its contributors' blue-chip name value notwithstanding.
In fact, the one thing that anonymous, "downmarket" design magazines do miles better than Print, Graphis and HOW is actually teach effective graphic design techniques. HOW, in particular, should be renamed WHO, as it's got maybe 2 articles on technique vs. maybe 6-8 articles about designers and usually one article about the wacky interior design of their workspace, too. As Architectural Digest is to CAD drafting, so these are to InDesign and Illustrator techniques.
By contrast, the Web design community seems much more willing to share tips and techniques. Design Observer's counterpart in the Web universe is A List Apart, and it's almost always focused on how to solve practical problems that all Web workers face - while being quite design-oriented and stylish as well. (I personally find it easier to read, too.)
Web stars are anointed by their peers, and the field in general seems flatter, less hierarchical, with very public events like SXSW Interactive that anyone can attend. It's like punk rock...just pick up a mouse and bash at it till you learn. There's plenty of free Web design instruction with sites like w3schools.com, Learning Movable Type, and the like. By contrast - unless I'm missing something - there's very little in the way of free graphic design instruction on the Web. We take what we can get...
Maybe this reflects a philosophical difference between the two camps: open source vs. a private club. A good Web designer can live anywhere and get work from anywhere (the team behind 37signals live in no fewer than four different cities), but as you note, a good graphic designer has to live where the action is and entrench yourself in the internal politics and star-system of its scene.
03.18.06
07:31
03.18.06
07:47
I'm sorry to have been perceived as dismissive of anyone looking for more design content on this site. I may have made a mistake by identifying my younger self with a similar desire, and then calling my younger self stupid.
I can only speak for myself, but if there's a shortage of information about "effective graphic design techniques" here at Design Observer, it's not because I know them and am reluctant to divulge them. Rather it's because the last design software program I spent any serious time with must have been PageMaker 2.0. It's hard to believe there isn't a really practical site out there for today's working designer: doesn't Speak Up at least partly fit the bill?
On the other hand, if there's an audience out there for tips and secrets of perfectly ruling mechanical boards with non-repro blue pens, I am ready to tell all.
03.18.06
08:00
03.18.06
08:41
as I said, I'm just playing devil's advocate to maybe articulate those users' position a little clearer - not to point fingers or start some sort of class war / flamewar. really :)
Speak Up is good, but it's not really an instructional site, either, it's more of a group weblog, with more focus on opinion, history, philosophy and "the biz" than technique per se - it's much closer to DesignObserver than say, Layers Magazine or Computer Arts - who have a great sister magazine, Computer Arts Projects, as well.
I'm with you, if anyone wants to start a great how-to, Q+A, "how did you get this effect" blog / magazine, I'm ready and willing to contribute as well.
03.18.06
09:03
A "how did you get this effect" blog... AJ you are truly looking in the wrong place for that kind of discussion. This blog will not please everyone, and I greatly thank the writers here for not trying to do such a thing. Design is hardly about how you got "this effect".
But I would try places like Adobe forums, or something like this maybe? Usually forums on design stick to more technical discussion. And you shouldn't have any trouble finding discussion about web design if you're looking for that too.
DO Authors: Just curious (and I'm not saying it's a great idea, but)...have you considered this?
03.18.06
09:36
I don't want DO to be something it isn't - I was pointing out that there will always be a portion of the audience that comes to the site with a certain frame of mind, which I tried to explain...and they need to be acknowledged as much as the authors' intent does - maybe not in the same piece.
03.18.06
10:20
Design plays an amazing roll in the world in which we live. Inspiration can be culled from anywhere; « Ethiopian grave markers, Passover tales, 50-year-old experimental novels, cold war diplomacy » Even when we talk about politics, and business, design plays an integral part in facilitating globalization (McDonald's and Coke) and can influences policy and incite change (Russian Constructivists and the 1917 Russian Revolution).
The Design Observer writers are not «dismissing the concerns of loyal readers - who wouldn't comment if they didn't feel attached to this site, part of a community» but I believe are trying to push beyond the boundaries of magazines like How, Print, CMYK. This has more to do with investigating design beyond many of the the other outlets available. They specializing in dissecting the underpinning of design; print, brand, web or otherwise.
« What does this have to do with design? If you have a political agenda please keep it to other pages. I am not sure of your leaning but I come here for design. » What does this have to do with design, everything. We are not so much discussing politics, as we are discussing the world in which we live, feeding the profession in which we love.
03.18.06
10:23
[AJ, most of the following is directed at "you," to be read as the advocate, not, well, you.]
For one, "dismissing the booboisie" is a lot more inflammatory than what's really being said here. Nobody's being dismissed. If anything, I see this post as trying to teach some people that they're being too narrowminded in their expectations. As to the question of topic, I'll just point at my previous comment. The problem is that no matter what people put in their site titles and headers, it doesn't work anyway. The reader comes in with an expectation and when it isn't met, heads will roll. Oh, yeah: they'll also crap all over the comments rather than just move along. You referenced the 37Signals blog; you should know exactly what I'm talking about. The problem here is that blogs are not, generally speaking, a service industry. Suffice it to say I doubt this site is going to be renamed "Mike and Jess and Bill Talk about Stuff" anytime soon just for the sake of making it clear other things will be covered. The audience will have to deal for a few days until the next post comes up, or stop reading and ideally start their own blog where their every utterance can be publicly shredded for syntax rather than content.
The suggestion that DO is at the mercy of its readers is valid only to the extent that some readership is needed. That readership does not necessarily dictate the content presented; that's what Metafilter is for. Here we also reach a distinction: The fact that you are reading something does not make you the person it was written for. Example: No, the magazines you cite don't generally run tutorials. Okay, but what ever made you think that was their focus? That's what those other unnamed magazines are for. And notice I said other. "Downmarket" is debatable, if they're even in the same market in the first place. If Design Observer ever gave the impression they'd be running how-to's at some point, please provide a link. If you want them now, I've learned more than a few things from Photoshop 911, and a host of other sites. You do seem to be missing something. One camp may argue for more free "practical" content; I'm sure we could find people who'd argue for more free "academic" content. I'm here to tell you the reality is probably that neither camp is looking hard enough.
Your example of A List Apart is rather appropriate, as they've also been criticized for overly theoretical content themselves. The linked comments are only the beginning.
It should be noted that calling the web open source just because you can generally see the source is largely a fallacy. It's simply a technical fact that it's near-impossible to truly prevent someone from getting at your source code. The ultimate goal of this, however, was to leave the content accessible to everyone. Don't believe for one second that if people could hide their techniques, they wouldn't. There are obfuscators out there for any language you can think of, but they're generally not worth the effort and sometimes introduce problems of their own. People often make the mistake of equating XML with open source, for example, but one look at the Safari bookmark file format will show you just how wrong that assumption is.
03.18.06
10:48
I agree with your assessment, mostly - again, of the arguments I presented in the 'devil's advocate' mode.
- I didn't mean to imply they *were* dismissing anyone, but I could see how someone could *feel* they were being dismissed.
- Yes, the sense of ownership is overweening at times; in extremis, that's what tools like comment moderation are for. Still, it is part of the territory. It is good to acknowledge it, engage it. You often learn things from having your opinions challenged...one can keep it from boiling over by letting the community thrash things out amongst themselves...real trollers tend to be ostracized by the regulars. Or turn comments off with a polite note as to why.
- I would think that HOW's focus might be implied in its name, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.
- I guess we work different sides of the Web - the mindset amongst my colleagues is more about sharing than hoarding. It seems (from casual observation, anyway) that very proprietary things - unless they have a fabulous value proposition - become obsolete quicker. So iPod and iTunes Music Store are successful, but maybe Safari bookmarks aren't (compared to OPML export). Something with an open API succeeds over one that's closed. Etc.
03.18.06
11:28
The openness of the web is probably out of scope here. Maybe I'll mail you about it. But I probably left that one way too open, to be honest.
03.19.06
01:20
Reaching the end of my first year as a professional designer, the best work that I've done so far is the stuff where I was most invisible -- the times when I cared so much about the content that I was able to use my skills to amplify it rather than get in the way.
03.19.06
02:19
Michael! I love this posting. (I can now rationalize my countless and sundry pursuits as part of this quest to understand, and be prepared for... anything:)
You say: "the more things you're interested in, the better your work will be."
I feel the same way about people. The more diverse the set of people you know and understand, the more relevant your work becomes to the rest of the world.
I know I'm guiltier than the next of having too many design friends, but the others help me keep things in perspective. I was at a party recently, when I realized that most of the people there weren't college educated. No wonder the conversation revolved around things I wasn't used to talking about. They had a totally different world-view than I, but one that I, as a designer, should be aware of. Usually we are designing for people with different perspectives. Rarely are we designing for designers.
Beyond being "the center of the design universe" I love New York for the proximity of diverse people. I can know young, old, crazy, sane, rich, poor, skatin', breakin', hatin', lovin' people just by participating in daily life.
In the same way I appreciate Design Observer making a diverse offering, including guest observer Lawrence Weschler, that helps me see how other people view the world.
Thank you:)
03.19.06
03:07
03.19.06
05:45
I just finished a day of applicant interviews to our undergraduate program. At the "welcome talk" at the beginning, I told the applicants that they should take up as many courses as possible outside of graphic design during the course of their education. Specifically, I told them that I recommended film studies, philosophy, women's studies, comparative literature and culture studies. I explained that these courses may not have an immediate impact on the making of design work, but the will have an impact on learning how to think (not what to think, which has no place in higher learning). The disciplines I suggested are analytically based. A discipline such as comparative literature makes connections between concepts: it seeks out possibilities and produces new knowledge and concepts where such thoughts were once latent. It sparks creativity. These disciplines analyze others and in so doing, they teach the skills to produce a better thinker—and ultimately, a person who has self critical skills will be a better designer. The applicants listened in earnestness and a number of them took notes.
A few months earlier, I said essentially the same thing to a group of our MDes students. At this talk, my comments elicited a number of guffaws.
I think it is fair to say that one group of students will end up being curious about the world while the other group already feels that they know the answers.
03.19.06
10:53
03.19.06
11:07
03.19.06
11:51
03.19.06
12:14
Suddenly the topic of identity is [designer's] to help make sense of. And perhaps the post from which this thread was spawned has been uncloaked as relevant for designers to observe. More closely.
aj's argument seems as important to that claim as is Michael's essay. Making it worthy of better debate by this 'community'.
The 'private club' is indeed the social model of the design industry whether you are at its top, middle or bottom. Undeniably blogs by their own architecture seek to flatten such tiered structures. Where the two meet we will continue to see tension. A tension that will not be glossed over, by urging she/he to go elsewhere. [For software tips, or hel