As Bryony and I settle UnderConsideration as a working day-to-day business in its official digs, we have been moving things around, rearranging this that and the other, and, inevitably, getting rid of stuff we don’t need — like my collection of 32 (and growing) empty tins of peppermint Altoids (verdict: it lives!). There is one pile of belongings that has survived this recurring cleansing process for more than eight years, and three major moves, despite my acknowledgment of its place in the Stuff We Don’t Need category: My Design Stuff.
A stack of dusty, bent, folded and otherwise imperfect pieces of design ephemera that range from paper promotions, to illustrator self-promos, to type specimens, to self-published thingies, to a myriad of booklets that I have handpicked from conference goodie bags, to completely aleatory pieces of printed communication. For the most part, I like all of them… For different reasons. Some have been given to me as gifts. Others are personal projects, done in limited runs and/or from savings spent. And a few have intrigued me for their content, even if I have not consulted them in, like, ever. Most are well designed and enjoyable to see and hold. For space considerations, I have organized and separated this collection in lumps of Small, Large and Extra Large and have them scattered throughout the house in available nooks and crannies. Over the weekend I had the urge — perhaps fueled by the fear that one of these days I might dump them in one of these mad rushes for order — to go through the Small section.
There is something heartwarming about a small piece of design ephemera. It feels precious in your hands, as you hold it and wield complete control over it. You can feel the spine, the cover, and the edges of the paper in a single motion. Small pieces of design can also be indicative of the financial restrictions under which it may have been created — a 5 inch x 7 inch saddle-stitched, one-color job carries the hopes of a small budget with big dreams. The use of typography and visual elements become crucial as every space counts… And, yes, this is more than enough rhapsodizing about ink on paper; let’s just say that I am sucker for these small vessels of message and design, whatever it may be in whichever form it may take. So…
As I was going through these I was thinking of the stories these pieces had to tell and that some, revisited many years after they were created, could be fodder for interesting flashbacks — for example, to a time when more than two uncoated paper mills owned every uncoated paper on the market or when majestic dot-coms were veering the future of design with their print materials — and renewed consideration for what these type of design projects can achieve, both at the time of their creation as well as years later. After wondering all this, I decided to separate some of my favorite Small Design Ephemera into a new pile:
In the coming months I will document some of them, alone or in groups, and see what kind of thoughts and associations they trigger. I am guessing that sometimes it will be a simple design crit of the piece, or waxing nostalgic about what it meant to me the time I first viewed it, other times I might decide to interview the designer, and I might use certain pieces as springboards for spin-off topics. I am, by no reasonable measure, sure what I would achieve with any of this but as a framework for writing about design it seems as conducive as any other set of criteria. Look for posts that start with “Small Design Ephemera:” as part of this series, and you can start making bets now on how many of these you think I will follow through with. In the meantime, here are some yummy close-ups of stuff. Oh, and if there is anything, in this size class, that you have designed or think I would enjoy, feel free to send to my attention.
Throw away the pots, pans and dishes... but NOT the ephemera!
On Oct.24.2007 at 12:56 PM