This essay was published, in part, in inForm (Spring 2004), AIGA Chicago’s Journal of Design
If you ask me, there are far too many people without the proper qualifications claiming to be graphic designers. What tickles me isn’t necessarily the fact that they are out there “doing it,” as it probably makes them happy, allows them to pay rent and satisfies their creative cravings, I am more troubled and concerned that it is rarely (or objectively) addressed. I feel it is a clear repercussion of the inability of graphic designers (myself included) to clearly, consistently and vehemently establish, define and diffuse what we do and how we should do it. As a quick example: I have no clearly defined, tangible description that I can confidently use as reference to write under “what we do” nor a clever portrayal to better explain “how we should do it.” It’s a funny thing being a graphic designer, a large majority of people (read non-graphic designers) whom we occasionally do business with, have absolutely no idea what we do. It does sound terribly cliché, and in retrospect doesn’t seem a funny thing. I guess this mystique at some point was attractive to graphic designers and served as an excellent excuse to avoid explaining ourselves to anybody. But now it just seems, well, sad. And confusing. Every time I visit family and friends in Mexico I experience this bewilderment: When going through customs on the way back, I have to state to the immigration officer (a person responsible for inquiring thousands of people, daily, about their profession) that I am in the US to work as a graphic designer. Not once have I gotten a remark, more than one time I have been asked “What’s that?” and I always get a doubtful look, like they are thinking “Graphic designer… right. Next!”
You may sense that I am somewhat bitter, fairly mad and to some extent resentful. Not really. I would say I am eagerly curious, constantly enthralled and rarely complacent with and about the people who operate under the umbrella of graphic design. When I first started my – excuse the sentimentalism – journey in this profession I never thought there would be such confusion and I believed everybody strived for the same goal: making stuff look cool. I was naïve, young and, come think of it, feebly educated about the importance of graphic design as a cultural, political and socially relevant discipline. Professionally, I craved leaving Mexico City, where the indifference towards graphic designers overshadows its visual and cultural richness and suppresses the potential to develop a successful practice. In due time I headed to the US with the intention of developing my career in, what I then thought to be, a well-established profession and community. What I came to find was (is) not exactly the creative and professional utopia that was many a time rendered by design publications (books as well as magazines) – the only viewpoint I had from where I was standing.
You could argue then, quite acceptably, that I am an outsider. That I haven’t been here long enough to experience, notice and share the, hard at times exuberant at others, evolution of the profession from its humble beginnings as commercial art through its outbreak during the internet boom in the late ’90s. I take no offense in that, but it would just be another excuse to not listen to criticism – an activity we seldom subject ourselves to. Plus, I was already here during that “boom” which in my opinion presented to the public, in that one window of opportunity where they were paying attention, some of the worst creative work the profession has produced. But I digress. What I have noticed is a crowded and fragmented profession, constantly (for good and bad) experiencing growing pains driven mostly by individuals not by a common goal or shared scope of practice.
Of course this is not necessarily as bad as I make it sound as it is a profession that, by fostering individualism and entrepreneurship, has produced some of the smartest, most intriguing icons (both human and visual, i.e. Milton Glaser and I[heart]NY) of our lifetimes. My constant worry is that this fragmentation has given way to a slew of practitioners, under the guise of creativity, that lack the understanding or knowledge of the very basics of graphic design: From the formal and technical, like the craft of typography and theory of color; to the intangible, like the ability to conceptualize abstract ideas; to the non-teachable, like talent. I am not talking about the creation of cheaply printed menus with tacky clip art of shrimp and chicken at neighborhood restaurants, I am referring to sound businesses being serviced by unqualified individuals who indiscriminately develop inadequately researched, poorly executed and ineffectively implemented logos, packaging, brochures, web sites or annual reports.
I am not implying that people be banned from graphic design, but the standards of what a graphic designer is should be more clearly defined and less loosely interpreted – if only for the benefit of businesses looking to work with professional graphic designers. I understand, and actually embrace, that people in our field come with distinct backgrounds, assorted skills and differing intentions. In its positive outcome this cultivates a myriad of personalities creating exciting work; yet in its negative effect it presents to potential clients a profession that lacks coherence. It is these differing extremes that I struggle with; on the one hand, I want the profession to be as versatile and wide-ranging as possible, but on the other, I am worried that by not clarifying (at least) what a graphic designer is, we will never be taken as seriously (a battle cry of the profession) or as powerfully1 as we all crave.
Ideally a graphic designer is trained, educated and introduced to the profession through a design program, be it in a major college or a specialized institution (do not read loony bin). Education alone does not guarantee success as it can’t provide talent, vision or the innate ability to make things work visually and as a viable solution – something you are either born with or learn to develop over time. There are certain skills, verging on the intangible, which a designer must develop throughout his career, like the ability to produce a “concept.” Designers can choose to make things pretty or make things pretty with a reason; the latter more valuable in the business of communication. The ability to filter a client’s need through a process of investigation, development and implementation is essential. Typographic skills are necessary simply because we work with words – good from bad graphic designers can be told apart by this skill alone. Graphic design is about communicating, hence a designer needs flawless communication skills to be able to sell, explain and strengthen ideas. Today, software knowledge is required because the computer (whether we like it or not) is the only way to get things produced, although it’s proven that in the wrong hands it can produce awful results.
The grand question then: Must a designer be subjected to a list of bullet points to be considered one? Therein lies the problem as well as the beauty of diversity many (as well as I) argue for because the answer is no. Some of the greatest designers never had a design education, yet they have a better grasp of design principles than their schooled peers; older generations don’t know how to open files in any software application, but can create marvelous concepts and executions with a Rapidograph; recent graduates and young designers handle over a dozen suites of applications, however, they don’t know who Herb Lubalin is. Obviously, there are those lucky enough to have the full package of an education, software knowledge, design basics, communication skills and heaps of talent, while simultaneously there are those who hold none of the above and still operate under the title of graphic designer. Unfair, yet common.
With running the risk of rendering my concerns futile, not to mention contradicting, here are five cases disparately showing what makes a graphic designer.
Tradition, experience and understanding.
Michael Bierut is a partner at Pentagram in New York where he manages a team of eight designers. Having graduated from the University of Cincinnati with a Bachelor of Science in Design in 1980 – his experience in the design industry accounts for a quarter of a century. He is responsible for the office’s business development as well as playing the role of designer and design director (“whatever that means” he jokes) for his client’s projects. Michael readily admits that he knows how to use “Microsoft Word and absolutely nothing else” when it comes to design software, however, he still keeps a notebook that is “filled with sketches for logos, posters, sign installations and page layouts.” Michael is the perfect example of a designer who started in the profession before the advent of the desktop publishing revolution in the mid 80s and hasn’t been phased out for lack of technical knowledge. Rather, he has established himself as a prominent designer by using strong concepts and flawless execution, backed by a long-standing tradition of design principles. Michael sums it up best: “I still do the same things that I wanted to do when I started studying graphic design 28 years ago.”
How about them apples?
Labeling James [Joseph Dude Lee] Victore is like trying to keep a racehorse inside a broom closet. James took the industry by storm with his wit, strong social commentary, acerbic sense of humor and raw style. Surprisingly, Victore has no formal design education; the last time he was in a classroom was in high school – thirteen years ago. He has no knowledge of design software except, as he amusingly puts it, he does know “a bit of Querk.” 2 Victore also claims to: “scan really good.” He assumes all tasks involving his projects and mostly works alone but seems happy that “there are always talented young designers hanging around my studio.” Young designers who tackle the production chores because Victore proclaims to “suck at it.” With no design education, no software skills and no production abilities what could possibly make Victore a graphic designer? He simply responds: “Because I say so. Really. Also because I have a way of thinking or apply a way of seeing things that is different from others views. I can find the truth buried within a project or a memo or brief, and draw it out with sex appeal or humor or poetry to make it memorable and strong. How about them apples?”
Why specialize?
Typefaces, signage, identities, motion, print, web – you think it, Patric King has done it. A graduate of the University of Tennessee (BFA in Design) he has been taking stabs at anything that crosses his path for the past ten years. Better known for his work done at Thirst and Thirstype, he has managed to develop a language all his own through a bevy of projects that span almost all areas of design. He currently operates as a freelance design strategist and visual designer; involved in all facets of a project from writing to development to implementation. He describes himself as “more of a writer, even though my final product is generally visual in nature. I always begin by writing.” Besides great writing abilities, Patric can claim knowledge of almost any application available to designers, just to name a few: Adobe’s Illustrator, Photoshop, InDesign, Acrobat and After Effects; Macromedia’s Freehand, Flash and Dreamweaver; as well as QuarkXPress, FontLab, BBEdit, Cinema 4D, Carrara and many, many more. Patric’s love for design doesn’t stop there, “I design all the time. Quite literally. You should see me geeking out with my powerbook or a bevnap (beverage napkin) in a nightclub. This happens nearly every night. It’s really pathetic.”
Big brands, big budgets, big responsibilities.
It is not everyday that a designer has the opportunity to create the identity for one of the leading fast food chains in America – James Grant did just that. As Design Director for Sterling Group, a leading branding consultancy, James’ responsibility is to “create and direct exceptional creative solutions to our clients marketing or business initiatives” as he proudly states. He has exercised that responsibility for clients like Burger King, Star Wars, Right Guard (in the United Kingdom) and Pepsi. James, who is proficient in many of the industry’s software of choice, has been in the industry for twelve years, where he has worked for big multi-national corporations operating under big budgets and expecting big returns on their investment – fast. It all requires big responsibilities. He has amassed “an exceptionally strong portfolio of work, the highest communication and presentation skills, a thorough understanding of print media,” says James and by having “the ability to work in a fast paced, fast changing non-traditional environment.”
Affordable design in a jiffy.
A new trend is emerging on the Internet: Logos done cheap and fast – no strings attached. How cheap? As low as $245. How fast? Order today and see “first revisions” in three days. It doesn’t sound glamorous; nevertheless Logoworks (one of the companies offering this service) employs a broad pool of graphic designers such as Sam Sherwood, who has created more than a hundred logos for the company in over a year. Logoworks is a side venture for Sam, he spends most of his time as Internet Director of a women’s clothing catalog. A Logoworks project starts with a brief, “the company’s name, tag line, what the company entails, color preferences, among other tidbits of information.” After the brief is received, Sam describes the process: “ideally, one would start with paper sketches, but the time frame involved allows for a day of random thoughts at the most. Though limited in time and resources, I never employ the shame of clipart, nor do I delve into design clichés (swooshes and the like).” Sam’s designs, along with more logo ideas by fellow Logoworkers, are submitted to the client for selection of the “winner” concept, which is then finalized. Although not ideal, this process fits a niche of businesses and graphic designers alike. Sam does take it in stride: “since I’m so young, I honestly have trouble believing that I can be considered a graphic designer – especially without any true classic training. I have always been proud of my work, but when compared to the heavy hitters of design, this field can be quite humbling.”
This probably just adds to the confusion. Is Michael Bierut more a graphic designer than James Victore because he has been schooled in the design profession for over 25 years? Is James Grant a stronger example of what a graphic designer is since he works for bigger companies with bigger budgets than Sam Sherwood’s clients looking for a quick solution? Does Patric King’s versatility make him a better graphic designer than the rest? These questions can all be answered with a resounding No, as well as a definitive Yes. Which is why it’s so hard to define what makes a graphic designer and even harder to define the profession because of the individual, unique and assorted expertise of its practitioners. Yet, there are a few basic attributes – and probably the hardest to achieve – that should be expected from graphic designers: a strong business understanding, excellent typographic skills, effortless communication abilities and most importantly the capacity to make intangible ideas a tangible reality through a scrutinous process. If you ask me, it is time to take a stronger stance, parallel to the decades-old tradition of defining what graphic design is, about what makes a graphic designer. Not by limiting the definition (or the profession) nor by the urge to please ourselves (or offend our peers) but by making it undoubtedly clear to potential clients what they should be looking for when working with a graphic designer because in the end, as a service-based profession, we are here to serve them – not us. But I guess you weren’t asking me, were you?
Notes
1. Full allusion to AIGA’s Power of Design conference
2. Italicized by the author, misspelling left purposely uncorrected
Armin Vit is a graphic designer, observer and aspiring critic. Unafraid of public scrutiny, he has written for AIGA’s VOICE Journal, Emigre, Eye, HOW and STEP magazines among others. His work has been published in numerous publications around the world and has been awarded many times with much fanfare. He is founder of UnderConsideration and the (in)famous Speak Up. Feisty behind the keyboard, Armin remains timid at heart.
It is frustrating when you see poorly executed design, or are undercut for a job by a "non-designer" with a cheap computer and a shareware DTP program, or undervalued in a norganisation because you are perceived as a Mac operator or a technician, that it is the computer that does the work.
But we shouldn't feel too affronted. Design is like a lot of other professions in that most people misunderstand it and think they can do better, and sometimes will try to.
Let me ask you this: how many of us have attempted some sort of minor building work ourselves? Like tiling a bathroom, for example, or laying some flooring. Doing some electrical work, maybe, or tackling a major bit of gardening? Fixing a leaking washing machine or installing a new shower?
I mean, how difficult can it be to do a bit of plumbing/gardening/building/flooring?
Most, if not all of us have tried our hand at things that really are jobs for the "experts", and if you've ever had the "pleasure" of the company of one of these experts in your home tutting about the shoddy amateurism of your work (while you simply blame the tenant or owner before you) you will know that they don't like it when people do it themselves.
But whereas we might say that's because they don't like the competition, and pride ourselves on saving a lot of money, when it comes to our own professional tutting at non-designers muscling in on our territory we get all defensive about our arty little profession.
All professions have cowboys, and all suffer from DIY-ers. I think part of the problem is that we tend to dress graphic design up in an air of mystery and obscure terminology, fail to communicate with our clients in plain English, and assume a posture of artistic integrity which really doesn't fit with 99% of what we do: designing menus for pizza restaurants, 20% off stickers for supermarket chains and tourist leaflets for villages with the good fortune to be sited near an ancient ruin. No wonder people get fed up with us and think they can do it themselves, or get in the cheapest designer they can find.
We also have to remember that "good" design is not, as Armin puts it, "making things look cool", but facilitating communication. The cool bit comes after, and even then it's not necessary except as a point of differentiation. A tonne of fast food flyers come through my letterbox every year. Most look awful from my point of view, but they work. It wouldn't matter if a menu had been put together by the spotty teenage son of a friend of the owner, or by Milton Glaiser. The only people who bemoan the fact that the spotty teenager is somehow innocently claiming the sort of sainthood we bestow on Milton are "Designers" with a capital D.
99% of designers aren't famous, never will be. They get on with the job.
Design, in communication theory terms, is "redundant" - it aids communication but it isn't necessary to it. And the mark of redundancy in communication is familiarity. In other words, the moment someone starts talking about the "wowee" design of a menu rather than the choice of pizza toppings, the designer has failed.
No, I don't like bad design either (which is what Armin is talking about). But more than that I don't like the tendency some designers have to talk about what we do like it matters more than the thing it serves. Far more urgent than protecting our profession from amateurs is the need to protect it from ourselves.
On Jun.12.2004 at 03:45 AM