I have a new assignment at school, and it’s time to hit the bookshelves. Some people prefer to look at certain styles or aesthetics, like my friend Abe, who only studies work done by Dutch designers, or Jenn, who prefers the Swiss. But I have no loyalties, no aesthetic biases because I’ll gaze at any design book, so long as it delivers good ideas and helps nudge my homework assignments past mediocrity.
My library at home has editions by the likes of Eames, Gehry, Koolhaas, Rand, Tolleson, Zwart, and Greiman. Most have some sort of writing, but the color reproductions are where it’s at for me; I refer to the color plates as inspiration or “juice.” I like the word juice because I get a vibe deep down inside when I see the plates, and I’m motivated—even energized—to design. On most occasions, I’ll be given an assignment such as a brochure or stationery project; so I get started by looking at other brochure or stationery designs. While I may flip through page after page, it’s always nice to hit upon that one design that somehow relates to the project I’ve been assigned by my professor. Sometimes, there’s a series of images that I can use for the given project (or I’ll come upon something unrelated that I’ll use later on in the school year). When I see that juicy design, I’ll rough it out in pencil, drop the book, and run to my sketchbook or computer, amped with thoughts of how I can go and do something as cool—or better yet, cooler.
When I get bored with my own library—small by most accounts—I head to Barnes and Noble, which is a good place for getting juiced by design books. I’ve noticed that Barnes and Nobles located in shopping malls have smaller design collections than the freestanding stores, and I’m not sure why this is. But the best part about Barnes and Noble is the fact that it’s like a library, I can sit there and read books all day if I like, without ever paying a nickel. The longest I’ve ever read there has been 8 hours, and I brought along a sack lunch and dinner in preparation for the long haul of studying OMA along with Modern Dog and Mau, Pentagram and the Postmodernists. That Mau book really held my attention the longest because the bigger the book, the more invested I become. When the plates are large, and in rare cases full scale, I really feel like I’m digesting the work itself instead of reproductions. However, it’s the smaller books that pull me in, delivering more intimacy, and I buy them they’re less expensive and easy to tote back and forth to the school’s computer lab where I design and print during after hours.
And in case you’re wondering, there are other students that do the same thing—checking out design books for ideas. It’s not just me, honest. I may be the only one to admit it here, but that’s because I’m an older student compared to my peers (ten years older than them on average, and some call this “mature”). When I hang out at the coffee shop before class, I see the younger design students reading through award journals and monographs by Cahan or Sagmeister. These kids usually don’t take the books out in front of the instructor (nor do I) because we all fear some kind of verbal punishment. And who doesn’t recognize that we’re aping some design done by some other designer, who’s more famous than we are? Maybe it just looks like we’re trying to create something in their spirit, I don’t know because our instructor never says anything. Once during a critique, I put a poster up for review and my friend Dean remarked at how it looked like something of Rand’s for IBM. I just smiled and said, “Thanks, and you know, I really love his work,” and then Dean concluded with, “Me too.” When I saw some of Dean’s roughs next week for an annual report assignment, he showed me something that looked Randish too, winked at me, and proceeded to lay out reader’s spreads for the critique. The instructor just shook his head, almost disgusted. From inside his shoulder bag, he shared a wealth of annual reports, done by Cahan and Fitch, “Here, you need to look at these instead. Do something like this,” he directed, pointing to the covers and interior spreads. So when our instructor gives us that kind of direction, it’s not like we’re stealing anything, is it? We’re designers, we appropriate, borrow, beg, and steal (for god’s sake, you can’t work in a vacuum). There’s no way to create anew, everything’s been done; for so long I was mistaken and thought that it was my responsibility to be original, and now I see that those urges were misplaced. In order to fit into the design canon, we must design like designers that came before us—whether we like it or not. In fact, one instructor told me that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. What’s wrong with trying to flatter all of the people you admire?
Some of you more seasoned designers may think I’m crazy, but you’re wrong. There are plenty of times that you too have borrowed or stolen. Be honest. In fact, if you think back to your own education, I’ll bet you’ll recall days of mimicking other designers in order to learn how to design on your lonesome. And have you seen any of the work out there lately? It’s all derivative. Like I said, originality is dead; fresh is the way of the future. If design were a produce aisle, you’d see row after row of the same vegetable, fruit, or herb, but someplace in that pile you’ll pick out a juicy and crispy selection that stands out from the crowd. In the world of print, you could say that award annuals showcase such freshness, and lately the internet’s doing a mighty good job too. I just love what sites like http://www.newstoday.com and http://www.dutchdesigners.com/ offer up. I want to do more stuff like that. Maybe my problem is that I’m looking too locally, focusing too much on stateside work. I know America is the ten-ton beast when it comes to military power, technological advancements (except cell phones), and sports (except soccer/football). Still, I’m beginning to notice that most of the juicy design happens overseas. Leaving this country sounds like a good idea with each passing day, and looking at all of these chic design sites from Europe diminishes my patriotism even more. Maybe that email address I got (eurodesigner@gmail.com) will come in handy sooner than I expected.
It’s no accident with that gmail, once I get out of school, I’m headed to Europe for certain, and it doesn’t matter what anyone says. I’m a designer, and if that means leaving this place to do fresh work overseas, then I’m gone. Maybe I should listen to my dad and head to NY before making a big leap like Europe, but it’s hard to tell what the economy will be like in the states by the time I graduate. Already, so much work is being outsourced, and maybe it’s just a matter of time until the design work goes elsewhere. How should I know, I’m a student and I have no idea what a job at a studio entails, let alone what the market looks like. I’ve had some offers though, it’s not like I’m totally cut off from the real world. One of my friends got me hooked up to do a website for a rock band. My teacher at the time told me that because I was a student I should charge something like seven dollars an hour because [a] I could get the job by underbidding everyone else and [b] seven dollars an hour is a realistic price based on how much design work I’ve done. Seven an hour is good money, but I really would do it for free just to get experience and a portfolio piece. I hate to think about all of these things like clients, deadlines, and paychecks; as a student I have so much to deal with already. That’s why I never took that rock band website job, and I probably will wait until my senior year to do an internship. I hope my professor can hook me up with that because I have no clue about where to start. It’s not a fun position to be in, this vague area between how do I design and how do I get a job. I want to learn both, but it seems like they’re only giving me half of the equation in school, and then there’s all of this software I’ve got to keep up with. How am I expected to learn Adobe CS when they make an update almost every 18 months? How can I even afford it! My friend Stefan still uses Photoshop 3.0 on his PowerBook, and he swears it’s all he needs.
Photoshop, PowerBooks, iPods … I’m poor and just buying a really nice design book to browse through for juicy ideas already stretches me thin. It may take a while, but someday I’ll be the imitated designer in those books, and I’ll be both flattered and rich enough to buy a whole bunch of design books to continue fueling my own ambitions.
No designers were harmed in the making of this essay, any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), establishments, events, situations, or locales, is coincidental. Names, emails, and certain incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. The author, who is a college faculty member and designer living in North Carolina, does not let his students know he’s this cynical—he attributes said outlook to living in Seattle’s gray weather for four years. He also recognizes that design is neither about fame nor appropriation, but wonders why the aforementioned situations and thoughts may plague designers.
is today April 1st?
{bait *not* taken}
I would like my 5 minutes back, please.
On Dec.27.2005 at 04:48 PM