Reflections on Blogging

I’m in a reflective mood today. I get like this sometimes. Well, at least once a year, usually on my birthday. A perpetual worrier, and prone to bouts of irresistible melancholia, I often come around to the ‘what is it all about?’ point, sometimes aided by a little liquid encouragement, but not always.

I teach, I design, I print, I make stuff. I try to make a good job of these things, just as I try to be a good husband, father and generally decent bloke. I’m not conceited enough to think that I am actually good at these things, and I am all too aware of my many shortcomings in all of them, but I do try. It is not always successful and I can be a bit of a t**t at times. Ok, a lot.

Life is an odd affair. You can either allow it to happen, and take it as it comes, or try to shape it to fit some ideal or aspiration. Some people have a strong faith to draw upon in times of trouble, and to praise when all is well, others tend to view things with an ‘everything was fine until…’ approach, and look for a cause to focus their frustrations, whilst others can muster up a ‘there are others worse off than me’ even under the most trying of circumstances. There are many other philosophies, doctrines and ideas, and there are many others that I haven’t included, considered or even heard of. It doesn’t matter. It is about what gets you through, what holds you up and what grounds you as well. Glass half full/glass half empty?

I tend to err on the half empty side most of the time. I can’t help it. Irresistable melancholia. But today I as look at my WordPress dashboard, at my stats - views, clicks, links and such are listed clinically in tables, with a super-duper map showing where all these people are who have passed by, whether it was deliberately, by accident, following someone else’s links or a general theme. For pleasure; a hobby, professional interest, visual interest, random surfing. Research; students looking for inspiration or information, fellow creatives, looking for alternative approaches and similar interests, academics needing specific information and looking for the esoteric stuff that doesn’t show up on the Google radar. And the rest.

Anyone who has blogged regularly on any platform (especially WordPress who have an excellent dashboard!) will have gone through that obsessive stage of ‘checking your stats’ especially as you begin to attract a wider audience, and I can confirm the buzz that can be had when your view stats improve, even by a small margin! It’s even better when you notice that the graph scale changes:

But what does it mean?  I don’t know, but I feel honoured by the amount of daily ‘traffic’ (I hate to think of you like that) and very much humbled by the attention that I get by sharing my interests and output with the world at large. Let me share with you what I know.

I have been blogging here since December 2008. Well, it was way into 2009 before I blogged anything original worth reading. That’s just under three and a half years. I began blogging as an aid to motivation; I needed some other influence to spur me into action, and ‘going public’ seemed a good way to go about it. I had tried blogging before and failed miserably, but learned from the experience. What I learned was this: have something to blog about and consider what you would like to read about. That’s it. I have been reading other blogs for some time, sometimes commenting and sometimes lurking, and the largest folder in my favourites is reserved for blogs. I read about stuff I am interested in, and read blogs by those who share something more than what they have looked at on the internet. Who share more than what they have produced – more than just the end result – the pretty pictures. I like to read about stuff in progress, the trials and tribulations of people across the globe, trying to do their thing a little better each time, and allowing us all to share it with them. I am of an age that can reminisce of those days as a student, when research meant hours in a library poring through out of date books looking for clues, and can value the information that is so readily available to me now in the comfort of my own home. Not just the big stuff, but some of those small things that probably only matter to me and a few others today, tomorrow or next week. I know it is a cliché to say that the internet has made the world smaller, but it has.

From the time I began blogging I have racked up just under one hundred and ten thousand views. Others may whistle in admiration at this number, whilst other might snort a derisive ‘pshaw’ at such a paltry figure. Me, I think of it astonishing. No, really; we have become almost immune to big numbers and are regularly presented with millions and billions in debts and deficit on the daily news, and the simplest of Google searches presents us with the first ten out of astonishing numbers of references

We are presented with these extraordinary numbers so frequently that they have become meaningless. Let me illustrate.

There are 86,400 seconds in a day. If you were to count out loud, constantly saying one number every second, not eating, sleeping or going to the loo, for twenty-four hours solid you would reach that number. Doesn’t sound much, but just try counting to 1,000 right now. Go on. I’ll still be here when you give up, or been bloody minded enough to make a point, after all, it would only take you about 17 minutes. That’s 17 minutes of continuous counting. Go on – try it!

 When it is considered in these simplistic human terms, even 1,000 is a HUGE number. 

Todays stats show that I am averaging 187 views per day – a 47% increase on last year and 195% on 2010! On this information I could conclude that I am gaining some popularity. Not exactly ‘trending,’ but then I don’t particularly wish to be ‘on-trend,’ especially when you consider the stuff that actually ‘trends!’ Ultimately I am exceptionally pleased with my statistical growth in this matter.

I have 106 blog followers; people who have enjoyed what they have found here and activated the tool that informs them every time I post something. I can’t actually name 100 people off the top of my head without going ” ooh, and what’s his name who I met at that thing I went to?” 106 is a HUGE number.

This is my also my 400th post. Yay!

Those 400 posts have generated just under 900 comments too!

This week alone visitors from all over the globe have had a nosey at my stuff. I am surprised to see so different countries – USA, Canada and Australia in particular (and not forgetting all you homegrown visitors) and especially the non-english language countries such as Thailand, Venezuela, Chile and Israel. I’d like to say a big hello to those of you who show up on my stats as a single visitor from a far away place - your visits are very welcome – say ‘Hi’ next time you drop by – I’ll put the virtual kettle on!

I am truly humbled by the attention this blog generates. I post things I think others will be interested in, and always consider what I would like to see in a blog before I post. I don’t always get it right, and always think that I can do better, but your continued interest indicates that I’m not doing too bad. I will still try though.

As I said at the beginning, I get like this sometimes, usually on my birthday. I’m 44 today.

Once again, thanks for stopping by. Really.

Rant #7

With the beginning of the new academic year, I am lucky enough to re-acquaint myself with the basic building blocks of graphic design. I didn’t always think like this – it can get mind-numbing returning to ground zero every year, so I try to make new connections with everything for each new cohort. Sometimes it’s digital, sometimes not, sometimes it’s practical and sometimes theoretical. I don’t plan it, but allow myself to become drawn into a particular area.

I will admit that I am a little old-fashioned about design education. No, I don’t believe that everything was better back in the day, far from it – what we can do with the tools we have at our disposal constantly amazes me, but I genuinely believe that the technology we employ these days makes us lazy.

Let me explain further. Many people are exposed to image editing software at a young age and have grown up with powerful technology built into ordinary objects and fail to recognise the implications or the significance – we expect our mobiles phones to have internet access, GPS sat nav, news updates, entertainment and a fairly decent digital camera as standard these days. They are common, everyday things to many, and some people believe that it is their right to use that technology whenever they want for whatever they like. Like in college. In the library. In a lecture. In a tutorial. During a conversation. “What? I was just answering my phone!”

No, this isn’t rant about mobile phone etiquette either, I’ll save that for another day. I guess I’m surprised at how ordinary this fantastic technology has become and how much it’s taken for granted.

Every year around this time, during the first few weeks of systematic exploration of PhotoShop, Illustrator and InDesign, I hear comments like “it won’t do what I want it to” and “it isn’t very accurate” and questions like “why doesn’t it just select what I want it to?” and “isn’t there a button I can just press to do this?” (Takes a deep breath. Counts to ten)

So it’s come to this; tasks that were once physically executed by many highly trained, skilled craftsmen, already reduced to a series of barely perceptible wrist movements and a couple of clicks, presenting too much of a challenge to those who now wish to go into the business. The labour, tools and time-consuming mechanical, chemical or physical processes that once dominated the design industry all now sit in a magic box on your desk. 

What once may have taken a week or two of frantic toiling by many specialists, involving countless miles of travel, meetings, samples and proofs to bring to a finished project to fruition can now be executed in a couple of days. Hours even. Without leaving your desk or cleaning your tools. An amazing technological revolution on a par with anything that happened during the industrial revolution but in a fraction of the time. All we really need to do these days is learn how to use these tools. This is why I get peeved about the comments and questions I just mentioned.

Take a look at this:

  
  
 

Click on the thumbnails so see the details. Go on, I’ll still be here when you get back.

Impressive, eh? Hand painted and airbrushed in gouache by a true master craftsman.  (Not me though – I only claim copyright of the images and not the work. Unfortunately) This is how it used to be done. Acute observation, meticulous preparation, total control of media, and lots and lots of patience. This is an original illustration made for Robinson’s fruit drinks from the late eighties/early nineties. No photos. No PhotoShop. Just skill. For the record, it measures about A3 in size.

I get a big kick out of seeing work like this, and work that has clearly been the result of labour, patience and skill, and think that these types of visual have qualities that just aren’t achievable with digital technology – that something is lost somewhere in the translation from idea to end result. Perhaps the medium is affecting the outcome?

The software and hardware we have is beyond the comprehension of many of those designers from the second half of the twentieth century that we hold in high regard. It didn’t stop them from producing work that still looks good today. They utilised the most appropriate technology available and relied on the quality of ideas and execution. Just that.  Anyone who has a copy of an Alan Fletcher book will know what I’m talking about. The recent exhibition of Kenneth Grange’s work demonstrated this point physically, with parts of the exhibition showing sketches in biro and wooden maquettes alongside the finished production items. I once got to ask Wim Crouwel (shameful namedropping I know!) if he used computers these days and he replied “No. I draw everything out by hand and give it to my sons to produce on computer. I am too old to start again.” This is a designer whose work during the 1960′s and 70′s still looks fresh fifty years on.

The thing is, our expectations of technology often exceed their capabilities - PhotoShop has got the potential to do more things to an image than we can think of – but it can’t see or make intuitive or skillful judgements about what is happening to the image. That’s our job. These are the skills we bring to the table. Any fool can learn how to push the buttons. It’s those who push the right buttons, at the right times, for the right reasons  - and know when to stop – who are the real designers.

This post was not intended to be about technology, or education for that matter. I really wanted to share my thoughts about using and developing those skills which have largely fallen by the wayside. Drawing in particular. Drawing of all kinds too, not just technical drawings or well observed life drawing, but the act of recording manually on paper in general. Drawings don’t have to be exquisitely detailed to convey lots of visual information – you only need to see the original drawings by Frank Gehry of the Guggenheim Bilbao to make that judgement:

There are a growing body of like-minded people across the globe who draw their parts of the world and generously share them with us on the web – urban sketchers - and whilst I enjoy those that are well-observed and detailed, I really get a kick from the looser approach.

I think that it is the dedication that I am attracted to here; people who draw for the love of it, and see it as a good way to build and develop their observation and rendering skills. I sadly lack the self-discipline for this. I frequently visit the website of Wil Freeborn (whom I have mentioned here before) just to eyeball his sketchbooks.

And my copy of Ingo Giezendanners Urban Recordings has become a bit dog-eared too…

I also have copies of Graphic. Inside the Sketchbooks of the World’s Great Graphic Designers by Steven Heller & Lita Talarico and Architects’ Sketchbooks Edited by Will Jones, both excellent compendia of drawing styles, observational insights and a wealth of inspiration. And others.

So what of my own drawing skills? I post compilations of my drawings every now and again, and also include them in posts that record the origins of a design project, and continually sketch out my ideas, advice and recommendations to students as I talk (it is always good to hear “can I keep that?” afterwards.) Many of my students have probably been frustrated to hear “if you can’t draw well on paper then you can’t draw well on screen” when I have encouraged them to abandon several hours worth of fruitless pissing about in Adobe Illustrator, and I still make students learn how to use a ruling pen and lay down controlled, flat gouache. Not because they will need to use those antiquated relics of my youth, but to instill a sense of  patience and control, forcing them into situations where they have to really toil to achieve simple but perfect results, without the ctrl+z safety net – just start over.

For some (many?) this is a new experience, especially after years of schooling where the bare minimum is always acceptable, and the easiest route to the end result is the preferred one. Probably one of the most disheartening questions I am asked, particularly at this time of year is “is that enough?” – a phrase used so often through school to establish the base level of quantity or quality that a teacher will accept.

My response of “If you have to ask then you already know the answer” never goes down well at first, but I believe that many do eventually catch on, and learn the personal value of a job well done. It’s amazing just how much of that patience, preparation and control of media can affect how you approach working on the computer, but how unpalatable the process seems when it is proscribed.

I carry sketchbooks and notepads everywhere and will happily fill a page or three to pass the time. I don’t draw pictures though. It’s usually bits of typographic playfulness, asemic explorations and the emergence of half-thought out ideas. Much of it is unpublishable nonsense, but it serves its purpose as a vehicle for me to exercise my grey matter. I enjoy it too, more so now than I have in many years, and I have been enjoying revisiting my drawing skills with students this year. I will be posting my efforts here for your perusal, and those of my students on our course blog and hope to encourage others to put down their shiny electronic tools and rediscover the simple but valuable pleasures of drawing.

Apologies to Charles M Schultz.

Rant #6

This blog was originally started as a platform to allow me to share my creative explorations, my design projects and my views on design. On that score, I believe I have fulfilled my original aims. I would now like to share my thoughts on some other aspects of design. This month I would like to celebrate the wonderful world of the SMALL AD:

It’s all you’ll ever need!

Tired of wasting time and breaking your fingernails?

Don’t lose valuable sleep!

Instant combination ‘no tears’ Onion chopper and anti-burglar device!

USB Freeview receiver and blood pressure monitor!

Norwegian Easi-Grip Heat Inducing Knee brace!

I love those catalogues that get posted through my door from time to time. So full of things to make our hectic and inconvenient lives easier and quicker. So full of great things we had no idea we needed! The following ads are all absolutely true…

Question: if the hat is so good, and makes the wearer so debonair, why didn’t they let someone actually wear it?Question: Is it meant to be worn in an exceptionally large size, and is there something inside to keep it at that jaunty angle?

Christian? Tired of lugging that heavy old bible around? Now you can carry this lightweight USB version instead – all you need is a fully charged laptop…

Without disturbing your bed mate? I don’t think it will be much of a problem if you went to bed wearing this…

Before, during and after a meal? That’ll be for the entire day then! Thank goodness it’s ‘easy to wear!’ There is also one for the ladies in a fetching red tartan.

Yes, now you can ditch that tiny, flesh coloured hearing aid that fitted snugly within your inner ear – just clip on this external  2½” brushed aluminium effect and matt black plastic ‘fake’ hands-free phone device – no-one need ever know!

Now I must say here that in all seriousness that I am not laughing at the expense of the incontinent. It’s that little yellow lozenge in the top right that does it for me! It appeals to the Homer Simpson in me!

But I want to end this post with what I think is the piece-de-resistance:

Consider my heart fully lifted by all means, but I am struggling to find a wall in my home it would grace. And just what sound does it make exactly? I can imagine…

So lets bring this back to a designerly level. A graphic designer, or someone with some reasonable digital skills has assembled each of these ads, all taken from one catalogue I may add, and tried to present them in a visually interesting way, probably with terrible product shots, and incorporating text from some bibulous copywriter trying to ensure that the next bottle of Martini is forthcoming. Well done my friend. You were fighting a losing battle before you came to work.

This might sound like I am being  sarcastic but ‘long live the small ad! ‘ I wish I could get away with this sometimes! I have smiled and laughed at this catalogue, probably much more than most of the christmas TV comedy specials this year. I have also been tempted to part with my money too, but I won’t tell you what for!

Many thanks to my ‘In-Laws’ for letting me nick this catalogue that was posted through their door! And also to all those companies that put these things together, especially this one.

Rant #5 An Asemic Outing

According to Wikipedia, the word asemic means “having no specific semantic content”. The term asemic writing or asemic art can be applied to many visual styles, but in layman’s language, it means false or imagined letterforms, text or writing, or simply the use of literary formats for visual purposes. The writing is usually unreadable, but used to create the effect of visual communication. Asemic writing allows the reader/viewer to interpret the context and arrive at their own unquestionable conclusions.

Tim Gaze, a designer and publisher of asemic writing sums it up beautifully on his website:

“It looks like writing,
but we can’t quite read it.”

You can view or download several of his asemic magazines here as well as follow some of his links.

I stumbled upon the term asemic on an old post at the (sadly now defunct) the nonist as I was looking for something else. This link will take you to a post where the author admits to his first discovery of the term. I am staggered to say that I had the same type of experience where I had, for some time been using letterform and grammatical structures to create images; indeed, I filled several pages in a notebook just a couple of days before:

I had been creating asemic writing then. It’s good to have a name for it. It’s good to know that I was not the only one scrawling away, for page after page, totally unreadable writing. I haven’t posted anything here before because I really thought that I was a bit wierd. I feel as if I have just ‘come out’ about my asemic tendencies. I have considered the obvious contradictions between my often obsessive typographic fixations and the freeform, wayward habits of these non-typographic doodlings and explorations. I am ok with my typoholism; I see myself as a self-medicating typoholic these days. But this, this is something else. I am quite excited by the idea of publishing this post as it will probably mean that I am commiting myself to a more public exploration of my newfound (well, new-named) orientation!

I have long been interested in the work of non-western graphic designers, especially those who work with arabic, asian and non-latin letterforms. I have been lucky enough to have attended a couple of Icograda conferences where non-western designers have presented their work, their cultural influences (I will never forget the film showing the morning traffic in Beirut by Halim Choury!) and craftsmanship, and have always tried to consider these ‘angles,’ particulary in teaching environments. My students will know about my appreciation of the work of Oded Ezer, Hassan Massoudy, Reza Abedini (and Catherine Zask too), and I will confidently state here that I know that many of my students, past and present now count these people amongst their influences and inspirations.

I am humbled by the visual eloquence of non-western designers, and their visually linguistic cultures. I am also ashamed of my own ignorance during my schooling and regret not treating the learning of foriegn languages seriously. I don’t regret much, but I do regret that.

I am a product of my birth, environment and schooling, until I left college. I am proud of who I am and where I came from, but can with real honesty say that my schooling left a lot to be desired.  I can also blame myself for this, but thinking about this now as an educator, I have a better understanding of my role. I was, at least, encouraged to think at college, and that Mike, Alwyn, and Peter passed on one or two wisdoms that I, as a naive, ignorant and self-assured young punk acually learned from. Absorbed. Absorbed at the time and didn’t actually learn from, but have come to realise twenty five years after. Thanks guys. Sorry as well – I didn’t show you much respect!

The picture above shows a view of one of the buildings at Newfield Comprehensive School in Sheffield, just prior to it’s fairly recent demolition. It’s a stark contrast to the last images. I’m glad it’s gone – and I feel lucky to  have come as far as I have – it could have sapped the life out me just as it did thousands of others who filled it over the years.

This point brings me neatly to the subject of ignorance in another context. I have recently had the honour of observing the Chinese master watercolourist and calligrapher Chen Hong, and closely observed him deftly scribing beautiful Chinese characters that mean nothing to me linguistically, but take on a more important , almost talismanic quality because of my own lack of understanding of the language. Indeed, although he told us that he was writing poetry, he could have been putting down his last grocery shopping list for all I knew. This too then, is asemic writing to me (by default or ignorance) as is the work of others who choose to utilise their written language in their own art, either by choice or culture.

Of course, we can travel back in history, and pre-history, to where language was evolving and where ordinary people were recording their experiences and instructing their offspring, to potential leaders, mystics and spiritualists who were aiming to demonstrate their dialogue with deities, spirits and the arcane, to find examples of proto-language, lost languages, deliberately secretive languages (just consider the stonemasons and masons for instance), expounding religions, inciting rebellion and making themselves heard to a select few for whatever reason.

There are some great stories about the deciphering of ‘forgotten’ languages (the Rosetta Stone, the Voynich Manuscript-more of which later…) as well as the re-interpreting of old translations of ancient texts (The Rubayat of Omar Khayam) and many populist films have been made where ancient texts are a key element in the plot (The Mummy, National Treasure) and the deciphering or translating of text (the DaVinci Code, all the Indiana Jones films.) There are great tales of how ‘minority’ languages have made big impacts in word affairs – (consider the story about the US army during WW2 who made use of two native american indian soldiers from a tribe whose language was totally verbal – no written language – were given the task of radioing sensitive information across to one another from the mainland to the Pacific bases. The Japanese, who were excellent code-breakers did not have any reference to begin to understand their language and never cracked it)-  all these have made the subject kind of sexy. Not that it needed to be any sexier for me; I appreciate and accept the implied romance and glamour. (Mrs Lestaret would say that I need it, too.)

 Whilst I was searching for more general asemic information on the web, I came across  a number of references to the Voynich Manuscript, a mysterious 15th/16th century vellum book that has never been deciphered, and alleged to be a very elaborate hoax.

The entire manuscript is available for download on various websites, and can also be viewed in good scale and resolution here, and read views and theories here , here and here, amongst many others on the web.

I find that both concepts of authenticity and hoax plausible but leave too many unanswered questions to be able to come to a conclusion. This is only natural as I have recently found out about this, and I hope to be able to spend more time with it before offering up any real opinion of my own. But what a fantastic thought – a detailed and illustrated manuscript containing the thoughts and knowledge of … an extinct race? A mysterious cult? A breakaway religion? Settlers from a place that left no other records behind? The eloquent ramblings of a deranged monk? Or did someone take the time to create an entirely new language and carefully scribe it using ancient methods and authentic materials just make a few quid and fool the elite collectors, scholars and ‘experts?’ I like the idea of both, but why on earth would it result in this particular book. And why has it survived for so long/been the subject of so much investigation if it is a hoax? I’m no amatuer conspiracy theorist, but I like this idea.

It was whilst jumping from link to link, looking for full versions and more academic analysis I kept coming across the name Codex Seraphinianus in a number of related blogs, posts and reference links. Well now, this got me going!

The Codex Seraphinianus was create during the late 1970′s by an Italian artist/designer called Luigi Serafini and is, for want of a better description, an Encyclopaedia Britannica of a fictional and fantastical place, highly illustrated and annotated, but all in a completely fictional script. I was stunned. I wanted a copy of this book, I really did. My birthday was approaching and I had already justified it as a birthday present to myself - well, after all, it’s not every day that a boy’s forty-two, eh? More research on the internet revealed that original copies were quite rare and there had been a paperback (I’m not a book snob, but this had to be a ‘proper’ book!) but I had a quick look if Amazon came up with anything – well, you never know…

At this point, I could safely rule out being the owner of a decent copy on the grounds of religious belief – like many a devout follower of the Northern Skinflint cult, I made many vocal rounds of the traditional rosary including; Oh Jesus!; Christ!; Good God!; and ‘I’m not paying that much!’ Now and forever, Amen. This is a book I really want. The fact that I can’t afford it obviously makes it more desirable, but I know I that want a copy. Not just to say that I have one – I want to hold it, open it to a random spread and enjoy it’s eccentricity, absurdity, graphic beauty and craftsmanship. I even suggested to my students that they may wish to club together to buy me a copy for my birthday, but even split between them it was too much. If anyone has a copy and is foolish kind enough to loan me theirs, just for the enjoyment, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!

A few links later I found a full PDF version on the internet (a Google search will find one for you!) and I have begun to examine its content at a more leisurely pace. Not that this is a substitute for the book of course, I still want one – more so now – but this is all I have.

Ok, back to the main thread. The Codex contains visual and written information about flora and fauna, peoples and places, cultures, and science and technology amongst other things:

All 370 or so pages of it! And all in this unfathomable, unique but very ordinary script:

The thing is, that although the script is unreadable, it is legibile. I can understand what it should be saying. The whole concept is exceptionally well observed – it shouldn’t work really – this is no more than a big April fools prank – but the sheer scale and structure of the book give it credibility that goes beyond this. It even has an index at the back – I am assuming it is an index because it looks like one. And that’s the point. It looks like one.

There is implied meaning in these pages. They use the visual/grammatical conventions of modern language, and conform to an accepted format without having specific meaning. We can follow their general direction through the the visuals, and place meaning upon ther formations on symbols that acompany them. We can understand titles, subtitles, captions, sub- and superscripts, references and incidentals. This is an amazing and intelligent work, that goes far beyond it’s fictional content.

I admit that I am obviously in awe of this work. It is new to me and follows the discovery that my personal imaginings are not isolated; that others have explored and experimented with fictional written languages – way beyond my indulgent doodles – and produced volumes of work that as collectable as conventional books, or even more so, given that only a limited number of people may still hold them in such esteem for their graphic content/inventiveness/percieved intellect/visual quality.

So where next for me and my asemic doodles? Well I needed to do something beyond the sketchbook so I did a little development on-screen:

Using the simplest of the ‘characters’ I had produced recently I created a vector line version and began to explore line qualities:

I even toyed with the idea of a ceramic 3D letterform in the style of the ampersand and ligature I made last year:

I doubt that I will go this far, but I am now thinking about putting together an asemic alphabet. You’ll be the first to know, honest.

The Burning Question

Neville Brody: Genius or W**ker? Was the title of one of this years D&AD Presidents Lectures at Logan Hall, just off Russell Square, London. Following a great day of inspiration, meeting new friends and catching up with old students (more of which, next week) I shuffled my way in to the traditional banked auditorium with a couple of hundred or so other designers, lecturers, students and generally stylish (lots of black and grey polo neck sweaters, thick rimmed spectacles etc) and probably very lovely people. I was a little excited and apprehensive. Let me state this up front. I like Brody. I have since I was a student. My first living inspiration; most of the stuff I had really fallen for as a callow youth was produced in the first part of the twentieth century. My views then are a little biased and I will inevitably write this post with more personal generosity than others will do theirs.

The lecture was presented in a different format this year. Rather than a formal ‘show and tell’ style lecture, it was decided to do a ‘Paxman’ style interview of pre-prepared prompts, questions sent in via the Creative Review blog, Twitter and from the audience, all fielded by fellow designer, writer and commentator, Adrian Shaughnessy.

I’m not going to write a blow by blow account here, just share a few thoughts about some of the things that were raised and commented upon. Before I get to the answer of the burning question (that comes at the end, just scroll down and get it over with – next time, go Twitter!) it is fair to point out a few things about the lecture. Firstly, whatever anyone’s decision on whatever Brody is, he is definitely brave.  Following some pretty unpleasant stuff being bandied about in the blogosphere about him, he still went ahead and put himself in front of a large audience of his peers, contemporaries, detractors and acolytes for an unrehearsed question and answer session. I have read one or two comments already posted on various blogs about last nights lecture (and his own,) some good, some lukewarm and others quite critical about the lack of direction in some of his answers. I’m fairly sure that responding to spontaneous questions does not really allow for clarity, so I am less concerned about how unpolished his ‘content’ was.

 

OK. My own take on last night. I think Brody was on the money with a few things. The commercialisation and consumerisation of education by successive governments is definitely not a good thing. What he thought the answer was unclear though – starting again? By whom? The government – no chance, the less they have to do with education the better! The institutions – hmm, I can’t see any of them working together for the common good. The design industry then? I doubt any of them would want to free pitch for the contract! Plus, it would probably be given to the two unpaid interns fresh out of uni as a tester job. And no, I don’t have the answer either.

That designers should employ their conscience in their work. A bit of a no-brainer that one – shouldn’t everybody, no matter what we choose to do for a living?

He also said that “skills are not difficult to learn, but we need to learn what we might do with them.” The process of nurturing creativity, and the individuals approach to how their own skills may be employed have all been largely ignored by educational policies, if still clung on to by isolated teachers and lecturers.

There was some contradiction too, especially when prompted to respond to the price of fame and the unpleasant comments published on the CR blog. He understandably referred to the way that the internet, blogging and Tweeting has allowed for (and possibly encourages) ungoverned personal attacks on individuals, without experiencing the consequences (would you say the same things to his face in a pub?) but on several occasions made his own personal attacks on a range of politicians in this public forum, without him having to experience the consequences. I am currently trying to arrange a meeting between Brody and David Cameron in a back room in Northern Working Mens Club, tickets available from all the usual outlets!

I was also puzzled by his statement that it is the duty of all graphic designers to learn all of the skills sets. I am in agreement that we should  be grounded in a range of skills, but if we have to learn to do everything, we would lose those who would become specialists; those who do fewer things and do them much better, or differently, as a result. These are usually the people we admire and aspire to – those that raise the bar for the rest of us, just like Brody did, way back when.

It is crazy that todays young designers need to be experts in twenty different software platforms, understand the complexities and idiosyncracies of the rapidly changing commercial print process, as well as speaking fluent HTML. Come on, get real!

I was a little discomfited by his comment about the decline of popular culture for him, started with the pop group Haircut 100. All music has been driven by marketing – it is just more explicit now I guess. People don’t seem to mind that their ‘stars’ have been market tested to within an inch of their gossamer thin veneers. Times change, and very few of us like it when they do. How many ‘comebacks’ did Elvis do? Is it any different now that Robbie Williams has said ok to a Take That reunion? The Beatles, The Sex Pistols, Public Enemy, Eminem all had/have their ‘machines’ to maintain, promote and maximise revenue streams.

There is always a level of nostalgia connected with music, particularly if ‘we were there when it happened.’ Brody was just lucky that the post-punk music scene was what it was. As a lot of it emerged from art schools and those longing for more than the aesthetic desperation of the late 1970′s and early 80′s, lots of new things were emerging visually to represent it. Brody should thank his parents for the foresight to conceive at the right moment to put him in that exact place in time. So what if the music industry is safe and crap now? It’s not the end, as Brody himself has proved. Designers have to adapt and contribute to change, or fall into that old camp of ‘it was better in my day.’

 

In my day, lectures were not influenced by battery life. Nor did they allow for halfwits to try and arrange workshops with him at their university (the fact that he was visiting lecturer at the institution is question must have been painfully embarrasing for the lecturer who was also present) and the third years complaining that they didn’t get enough time with their lecturers (a real problem I know, but is this the forum?), but if you are going to give anyone a turn, well, you have to expect that sort of thing.

 

Genius, w**ker, or confused? (bad pun, I know) Perhaps a more honest approach could have been sought – more cards that may have read ORDINARY, HONEST, PASSIONATE, CONCERNED, RESIGNED, SELF-IMPORTANT, LUCKY or all of the above.

So my verdict then. A bit of both. I like people who are not afraid of having an opinion. Being able to communicate that opinion is a fundamental right of democracy. We don’t have to like it. We can choose. We also shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously.

It is not important what Neville Brody says and thinks. What is important is what we say and think.

But we do need to listen to those with experience – it is the primary act of learning. But we need to listen to a range of them and think about what they say and think, distill it, question it and argue about it with others (if they’ll listen!) before deciding whether to adopt it, modify it, reject it or forget about it. It is our choice. Brody was there to answer questions and give his opinions on things and he did just that, whatever we think about it. Don’t have a go at him though or it may result in a fat lip. The photo below is my favourite. Remember, what is printed on the other side of the card and is been shown to Brody. I guess it all depends on where you sit.

Just for fun then.
I did get the feeling that at times, Brody wondered what he had got himself into, and I got a good shot of him collecting his thoughts. What else may have been going through his mind?

Save this image and insert your own caption. Please rename it in this format smithjohncaption.jpg (obviously using your own name!) or .png or .gif  and email them to me for inclusion. If you are sending more than one image, please add a number to them also.  Please note that if you are sending me images, then you are giving me your consent to publish them on the web. Don’t send them if you don’t want them uploading. These images will only be used for this purpose. Lets not be nasty too. Leave that sort of thing to the CR Blog!

I’ll pick a winner before Christmas and I’ll custom make a unique sketchbook for the winner. Best of luck, and pass the word around…

Rant #4

Is it just me that’s fed up with all the ridiculous pseudo-science that has crept into modern advertising? I don’t want to put any L.casei Imunitass® in my gut, whether it’s friendly or not! And do I really need Innovative Molecular Precision Technology® in my shampoo? Why are all these women sitting around in coffe bars discussing their ‘bloating’ and constipation? I guess I’m just getting old.

It reminds me of all those old remedies that old people suggest when young people get poorly; ” You want to disolve some Smeckler’s powder with a tincture of vinegar and bicarbonate of soda and spread it on that bruise – I were always coated in the stuff as a lad and it din’t do me no ‘arm.”

I was listening to Small Change by Tom Waits today on the way home from work and the lyrics to ‘Step Right Up’ ring ever more true…

Step right up, step right up, step right up,
Everyone’s a winner, bargains galore
That’s right, you too can be the proud owner
Of the quality goes in before the name goes on
One-tenth of a dollar, one-tenth of a dollar, we got service after sales
You need perfume? we got perfume, how ’bout an engagement ring?
Something for the little lady, something for the little lady,
Something for the little lady, hmm
Three for a dollar
We got a year-end clearance, we got a white sale
And a smoke-damaged furniture, you can drive it away today
Act now, act now, and receive as our gift, our gift to you
They come in all colors, one size fits all
No muss, no fuss, no spills, you’re tired of kitchen drudgery
Everything must go, going out of business, going out of business
Going out of business sale
Fifty percent off original retail price, skip the middle man
Don’t settle for less
How do we do it? how do we do it? volume, volume, turn up the volume
Now you’ve heard it advertised, don’t hesitate
Don’t be caught with your drawers down,
Don’t be caught with your drawers down
You can step right up, step right up
That’s right, it filets, it chops, it dices, slices,
Never stops, lasts a lifetime, mows your lawn
And it mows your lawn and it picks up the kids from school
It gets rid of unwanted facial hair, it gets rid of embarrassing age spots,
It delivers a pizza, and it lengthens, and it strengthens
And it finds that slipper that’s been at large
under the chaise lounge for several weeks
And it plays a mean Rhythm Master,
It makes excuses for unwanted lipstick on your collar
And it’s only a dollar, step right up, it’s only a dollar, step right up
‘Cause it forges your signature
If not completely satisfied, mail back unused portion of product
For complete refund of price of purchase
Step right up
Please allow thirty days for delivery, don’t be fooled by cheap imitations
You can live in it, live in it, laugh in it, love in it
Swim in it, sleep in it,
Live in it, swim in it, laugh in it, love in it
Removes embarrassing stains from contour sheets, that’s right
And it entertains visiting relatives, it turns a sandwich into a banquet
Tired of being the life of the party?
Change your shorts, change your life, change your life
Change into a nine-year-old Hindu boy, get rid of your wife,
And it walks your dog, and it doubles on sax
Doubles on sax, you can jump back Jack, see you later alligator
See you later alligator
And it steals your car
It gets rid of your gambling debts, it quits smoking
It’s a friend, and it’s a companion,
And it’s the only product you will ever need
Follow these easy assembly instructions it never needs ironing
Well it takes weights off hips, bust, thighs, chin, midriff,
Gives you dandruff, and it finds you a job, it is a job
And it strips the phone company free take ten for five exchange,
And it gives you denture breath
And you know it’s a friend, and it’s a companion
And it gets rid of your traveler’s checks
It’s new, it’s improved, it’s old-fashioned
Well it takes care of business, never needs winding,
Never needs winding, never needs winding
Gets rid of blackheads, the heartbreak of psoriasis,
Christ, you don’t know the meaning of heartbreak, buddy,
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon
‘Cause it’s effective, it’s defective, it creates household odors,
It disinfects, it sanitizes for your protection
It gives you an erection, it wins the election
Why put up with painful corns any longer?
It’s a redeemable coupon, no obligation, no salesman will visit your home
We got a jackpot, jackpot, jackpot, prizes, prizes, prizes, all work guaranteed
How do we do it, how do we do it, how do we do it, how do we do it
We need your business, we’re going out of business
We’ll give you the business
Get on the business end of our going-out-of-business sale
Receive our free brochure, free brochure
Read the easy-to-follow assembly instructions, batteries not included
Send before midnight tomorrow, terms available,
Step right up, step right up, step right up
You got it buddy: the large print giveth, and the small print taketh away
Step right up, you can step right up, you can step right up
C’mon step right up
(Get away from me kid, you bother me…)
Step right up, step right up, step right up, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon
Step right up, you can step right up, c’mon and step right up,
C’mon and step right up 

 from www.lyricsmania.com

There’s no real point to this. I’m not building up to anything, I just wanted to get things off my chest is all…

Rant #3

First, some images of Milpa; a pamphlet designed by Edward Wright in 1988.

 And the whole thing in sequence:

I’ve just finished reading a short volume on the typographer Edward Wright, beautifully designed and produced by the Department of Typography at the University of Reading to accompany an exhibition a couple of years ago. Although I enjoyed what his friends, students contemporaries wrote about him, I found myself thinking about how little I knew about him and his work, and tried to recall other books, articles or interviews that featured Wright, or even mention him. So I ‘Googled’ him. Lots of references to the three words individually, but only a handful of them combined to be relevant, and they added little beyond what I already had read. Check them here, here, here and here.

As a typographer, Wright appeared to be one of those rare people who simply ‘understand’ type. This is obviously a very clumsy statement, and I need to use an analogy to make my observation a little clearer. There are those who write beautiful and uplifting symphonies, and there are those who can arrange the music to get the best from an orchestra. Wright, to me, is one of the latter. I suppose many would consider this a slur on the fine work he created and those he influenced, but I mean it with the highest praise.

As a lecturer I need pitch my teaching level at post 16 students and know that there are a number of graphic designers and typographers that will appeal to most of them, strike a chord with a few others and hopefully give one or two a kick start into a project. There are quite a few ‘stars’ to gaze at during the 20th century, with some others rising as we draw the first decade of the 21st to a close, and there always will be, as we designers, despite not really wanting to admit that we are inspired by anyone in particular, will aspire to, emulate or be jealous of.

Most of my students over the last few years could probably assemble quite a list of my ‘favourites’, that is, the ones I refer to the most to students. There are others though, and Wright is one of them; influential but not showy; studious and academic; driven but not obsessed. Someone who followed his intellectual interests out of a desire to develop and a love of the process. A couple of years ago, I was fortunate enough to see Ken Garland  (who was at one time one of Wrights students) speaking at the St.Brides Conference. Here he put forward his nominations for unsung heroes of British design:

William Slack,

Jerry Cinamon,

Ken Briggs,

Ken Campbell 

and unusually, Alfred Wainwright, who wasn’t a graphic designer, but a casual flick through one of his meticulously hand drawn walking guides will surely convert you.

Graphic design history is generally undisputed. One history book generally confirms the other, and most of us are content with this. I am also interested in those who simply did their job – I’ve already touched on this subject here - all those commercial artists and early graphic designers, whose work is sometimes remembered and often collected, but always attributed to Anon. At the exhibition of propaganda posters at the Imperial War Museum in London I was surprised to see such a high proportion of work, whose originators gave their talents to the war efforts on all sides without laying claim. Beautiful, admirable and honest. So who are the other unsung heroes? Any more for the list…?

The Future’s Bright; The Future’s Pastry

Each year, a group of students or an individual presents me with a gift as they complete their studies and progress on to bigger and better things. I’ve had a good variety of them over the years and not only to say thanks; when my first daughter (Uppercase) was born, one of my students learned to knit and made some very dainty scratch mits (too precious to use but now in the ‘Box of Treasures’ for later life) and on the birth of my second daughter (lowercase) I recieved a hand-made waistcoat (for the baby!) made from WW2 parachute silk (as before, but in ‘Box of Treasures 2′). I’ve had engraved pewter tankards (sat on a shelf above me as write this, filled with used scalpel blades!), a MUJI CD player (awaiting a permanent place, but used frequently). Wines, beers and spirits enough to keep a staffroom of lecturers happy for at least a couple of hours, music compilation CD’s as well as cards, keepsakes, messages and images, both handmade and digital. I have posters, manuscripts, books and a plethora of beautiful and interesting printed ephemera. And, of course,  handshakes, bearhugs and the occasional kiss too (no tongues).

I could be forgiven for entertaining a certain amount of expectation as the academic year builds to its anti-climax, but I don’t. That’s because I am genuinely pleased when I can submit each student for their qualifcation, whatever their grades may be. I assume a great deal of responsibility for their success, and perversley, for their failures also, even when students have made the choice not to succeed. From these I have also received a fair share of unpleasant chariacatures, defaced photographs and other inventive farewells (my favourite was on a specially cleaned whiteboard in the studio a few years ago that simply said “Skinner is a w***er”  and it still makes me smile!)

I don’t ever expect gifts from students however, and perhaps don’t deserve them, but it is always very moving when I receive a gift, no matter how small. This year has been no exception. Following a comment I made to a student a couple of weeks ago that does not bear repeating here (I’ve tried – it just isn’t funny anymore – trust me!) I was presented with a parcel wrapped in tinfoil. Within, a very elegantly crafted ampersand made from pastry! I take back that comment Aaron – you dohave a bright future in pastry!

(PS - a message to any student whose individual gift was not singled out here and who may feel personally slighted. I just thought this one followed other entries on the blog. A heartfelt thankyou to all students, past and present – may the force be with you…

Ruminations on reaching a funny age

I am spending the last few days of my fortieth year thinking about the slow inexorable march of time and the inevitable shuffle away from the ‘life begins’ stage. I have already considered the usual old chestnut of ‘what have I done with my life’ and can be quite happy with my appraisal. Apart from a missed opportunity with Deborah K___ in the last year of school (if only I’d asked her again!) I am satisfied with my personal achievements. I have two great kids and a wife who could describe herself as ‘long-suffering’ but doesn’t. House, car, and the usual baubles too – all the diversions of a normal middle class life. I have developed professionally too, with new letters to add to my name on the business card, some good design work produced, and some generally good responses from my students. I’m still experimenting too, having completed a printmaking course before christmas, and my current experiments with 3D forms and ceramics.

I’ve got more grey hairs than I can count in my once luxuriant dark brown hair. The beard is largely salt and pepper too. There’s noticably more forehead than fringe. And a few twinges that are beginning to be more than just twinges. I am worrying about when I’ll start saying to my students “when I was your age” and “you don’t know that you’re born these days.” It will come, it’s just a matter of time.

I’m not unhappy about all of this, although I may sound like I’m building up to a big ‘but…’, but (well, ok I was) I am feeling a little odd about my age and about time in general. To tell the truth, I can’t remember what I thought my adult life would be like, or whether I even gave it a thought at all. I remember buying the first issue of 2000ad comic as a kid, and working out how old I would be in the year 2000, and being disappointed about how long I would have to wait before I lived in ‘The Future’, with it’s hover bikes and jet packs, commutes to Mars and holidays in space. Food in tablet form and silver suits. Automatic houses where everything was done for you. It’s now 2009 and I won’t be jetting off to Mimas for a fortnight in August. I will be thinking about my hover bike as I sit in the evenings traffic though, and my automatic house, complete with Plexiglas dome over the garden as I wash the pots tonight.

Judith Hahn, Maggie Philbin, and that other guy from ‘Tomorrows World’ sold me a future that no-one had any intention of providing. I guess that I feel a bit cheated, especially about the hover bike.

This spurious outburst was originally published elswhere and has been included here in the hope that others (I am sure I am not alone) may have their own insights to add…

Rant #1

I visited the Abram Games exhibition at The Ruskin Gallery last week and have been in a state of some reflection since. I have always felt ambivalent about Games’ work; its familiarity negating its immediacy with every viewing. Any pictorial history of WWII, essay on propaganda or review of the medium of the poster is not complete without a Games’ image or two. As a student I felt uncomfortable at his self promotional maxim “Maximum message, minimum means”, worthy as it was, and as I continued my studies I tended to favour the the work of less well-known designers, the anonymous or forgotten producers of work that remain because of their intrinsic visual value and not because they were originated by a media-friendly designer figure.

At that point I believed that there was something rather noble about graphic designers; invisible people producing the worlds visible communications. I considered the signing of work was the privilege of the fine artists. Those who toil at their work for passion, politics or posterity. The names recorded in art were earned, much like those found on war memorials but for much less heroic deeds. It also seemed to me a very ‘un-British’ sort of thing.

When I was first introduced to the work of Games I was also learning about Frederic Goudy and Raymond Loewy as well as A.M. Cassandre and The Bauhaus. These Americans and Europeans were proper famous designers that I’d heard of before and were infinitely more exotic and flamboyant, more disposed to signing their work and being famous for doing it. This probably had a lot to do with growing up during the 1970’s and 80’s on a grim council estate in Sheffield, where life was pretty tough and anyone who wasn’t from England was exotic.

So I had dismissed Games as a self-promoting, devil worshipping (OK, maybe not, but I needed to see if you were still reading!) braggart and aspired to the Europeans for their regimented, scholarly approach – I can’t tell you how much I ached – a c h e d – to attend some sort of Bauhaus school (much like my kids want to go to Hogwarts!) but I also fell under the spell of the Yanks, particularly Herb Lubalin, Saul Bass and Paul Rand, largely for their playfulness and fluidity of execution.Games seemed to belong to a bygone age, continually helping a nation to recover during the post-war years, whilst his counterparts were designing cars with elaborate chrome and fins, expressive rebus logotypes and fancy packaging for expensive luxury goods and cigarettes.

As the eighties bled into the nineties, the Apple Mac changed the industry in its biggest shake-up since Gutenberg and a new clutch of designers (what is the collective name for a group of designers?  A grid?) came to the fore to seduce us. Neville Brody, Malcolm Garrett, David Carson and The Designers Republic pushed the work of Games further into the past. Even in the early days of the Mac, it was clear that the airbrush, ruling pen and french curves had their cards marked. (Check out this link – it’s like a studio graveyard!). What once took weeks or careful preparation, drawing, masking, spraying and re-masking can now be executed within the hour (or so our clients believe!) Our clients are not much more involved in the process as they once were, but they are certainly more prone to ‘put their mark’ on a project (just make the logo a bit bigger!)which can be accommodated with a few deft clicks of a mouse. Previously, a change like this would have entailed a time consuming and very costly reworking.  So the technology develops and replaces its predecessor, so too do the designers.

Back to where I started. Looking at Games’ work now – actual prints from his own archive – I was immediately struck by the technical accomplishment in the execution of each piece. The accompanying sketches, refinements and rejected ideas put the human scale back into the work I’d become familiar with from books and college lectures. Like the majority of designers, he worked with a loose methodology and a fair bit of on the spot judgement based on experience. His ideas didn’t come into the world fully finished; like a child, the design needs nurturing and encouraging before it discovers itself.

The messages and styles were obviously dated – it is a fallacy to consider graphic design as timeless – but they certain lived up to his maxim; there was no decoration where it was not needed, and every element contributed to the greater communication of the piece. As a body of work, there was a coherent, but flexible style, as much evident during the seventies as it was during the war, but relating the the prevailing trends of the day. I was more impressed with the posters for the London Zoo than I expected, the scale and colour allowing them more opportunity to dazzle and seduce the eye than the reproductions in books.

I am smitten. I am ashamed to think of what I may have said to students about Abram Games over the years. It is at this point that I hope that nobody listened to me and make my apologies. I should go and look for some other designers who didn’t make the grade first time round.

If you can get to Cambridge, it’s worth the visit, but don’t worry if you can’t as the exhibition is touring and may find itself near you at some point. Do a google search for Games and you’ll have access to far more images and information than I had as a student. Maybe you’ll take to him quicker than I have. I hope so…