As a student, I was very lucky. I was charmed by circumstance and financial support: I could not work while in school, as there was no visa that would allow me to do both, and my parents were okay with that. Many, if not most, of my classmates were not as lucky, piling daily expenses on yearly loans. As a teacher, I am lucky again: I am surrounded by students that range in every aspect possible, giving me and the class a deliciously rich experience.
From my student days – more than eight years ago – to today I have constantly been bothered by a certain “unfairness” in the education system. As some of you know I attended the Portfolio Center in Atlanta, GA, whose reputation for hard work and unheard-of schedules has reached the far ends of the design community. With a smaller student body than other schools in the country, PC students seem to be spending the same yearly budget (per school) than its larger competitors.
Every quarter you are expected to present your work in a professional manner. You dress up and rehearse your presentation but, most important of all, you build your comps:
• Posters: Professionally printed at full scale and mounted.
• Logos: Rubdowns for perfect crispness and PMS color matching.
• Bottles of any kind (wine, perfume, incense, etc.): Rubdowns, again, plus the actual containers – as many as needed
• Books/Annuals: Full-sized Epson prints, meticulously mounted to be as “real” as possible.
• Packages: Seamless and beautifully printed. If you are packaging something large, you usually need a vendor to print it out for you.
• And the list goes painstakingly on and on.
No matter what you are presenting, the craftsmanship is expected to be perfect, and you lose points for its absence. How to deal with this if you are not handy? By paying for it, if you can. And if you can’t, you suffer the consequences, as your abilities fall short and your grades plummet as much as your sore and exhausted soul. This process – seven quarters of practicing and learning, gathering vendors and befriending photographers – leads to the big finale: focusing all your time and energy on your portfolio.
Having unlimited resources usually leads to better presentation (whether self made or hired), and better presentation leads to great first impressions. Recall when you sit before a student portfolio—be it from the Epson printer, silk-screened on unusual materials, or printed in a foreign country. You will usually notice the case, the materials used (the paper and the fabric, the wood or metal), the print quality, the way it all works together and how “beautiful” it all looks. Secondly you will admire the actual design work.
Having limited resources can lead to more limited (and sometimes more creative) solutions. The store-bought portfolio set before you, similar to the one your company keeps in the storage room, buried by boxes—yet, there is something unexpected about it that you can’t quite figure out. Every time I attend one of those mass Portfolio Reviews I am constantly surprised by what I see: Sometimes horrible and creative, sometimes beautiful and bland and others just right. While at PC, this was not an issue (nor a matter of choice) as students saved and scrambled in order to purchase The Box: a custom-built, wooden box with trays that fit every one of your hand-held pieces as well as your book, all nicely covered with the fabric of your choice – costing anywhere from a couple hundred dollars, to more than a grand. Size does not matter, although weight seems to impress more within the school than during interviews. The majority of us grads end up with the same style portfolio, yet each one is unique in how it comes together with our work and the overall display design.
Today, I experience both extremes with my students. I see one take a deep breath as another stands before the class, a perfect book in his hands– printed it in South Korea during the holidays, at a cousin’s-friend’s-uncle’s-neighbor’s shop. The other slowly gathering the black and white prints from the school-provided (usually sub par) equipment to be taped to the wall. Two scenarios: If the design level is the “same”, is the piece with the more generous production better? If the design level is NOT the “same”, can quality in design execution and thinking be correlated with deeper pockets? Or vice versa?
I believe each student has the responsibility to stretch their resources to the maximum, in order to make them better designers. The ability to have a 48-page oversized book silk-screened on rice paper, using five colors should be pushing design as much as the laser-printed, letter-sized pages glued together book. There is no excuse not to do this, but there is a sense of limitation. You see it in their eyes, and sometimes you even see it in their designs. And more often than not they stumble with it. I see students showering a project with techniques and tricks to a point in which the project drowns, and I see students using the same elements over and over, avoiding risks and staying in the safe area of what they know they can afford to produce.
It is my job to help them move on from these situations, guiding them to find the best unique solutions based on their (un)limitations. I know that much. But I still don’t know how to address the longing look on a student’s eye as they observe the larger budget being cashed class after class—and I keep wondering about its fairness.
I remember this very well from my days in school. We joked often about how the "A"s always cost the most money. Attending a University, we would often scoff at our friends on the science and math tracks, complaining about the price of their books each semester, because we knew that when we got to our first day of classes, we would be confronted by a gigantic supply list that at the end of the semester was not returnable for resale. Don't even get me started on the difference between carrying a book across campus, versus a 4'x8' piece of cardboard on a windy day, or about having to explain to the guy on the bus why you would really love it if he didn't crush the fresh corners of your millionth piece of mat board with his backpack. I spent a lot of money on those projects and I've still got boxes of triangles, quill pens and compasses that I would have loved to slap a "used" sticker on and drop off at the student union for a few bucks.
Economic restrictions are a fact of life, of course. The solution is exactly what you said Bryony, "find the best unique solutions based on their (un)limitations." In fact, I think students will be better served by having limitations. I'd love to see what they might come up with when given a project with a specific budget. Most days, most designers are working with all kinds of ridiculous restrictions, time, budget, materials, etc. I know I can always come up with a grandiose idea and I am a pro at biting off more than I can chew, but the best lesson I ever learned in school was how to work within limitations. In fact, the best compliment I ever received was passed down to me by a professor who had been talking to my boss at my internship, they said that I "set realistic goals for myself and my work." Similarly, one of my most successful projects in school was to a display for our design gallery, it was not graded and we had 48 hours to complete it. I made mine with four pieces of mat board and an exacto knife in about three hours. The professor said, "Other people tried to make a display about design, you simply designed something." It seems kind of obvious, but I was so proud of what I did with so little, even if it wasn’t graded.
On Mar.07.2007 at 01:19 PM