Paul Rand admitted all his life that he was insecure as a writer. It was his passion for his subject that made him such an effective one.
Graphics design, no matter what else it achieves, is not good design if it is irrelevant.
Visual communications of any kind, whether persuasive or informative, from billboards to birth announcements, should be seen as the embodiment of form and function: the integration of the beautiful and the useful. In an advertisement, copy, art, and typography are seen as a living entity; each element integrally related, in harmony with the whole, and essential to the execution of the idea. Like a juggler, the designer demonstrates his skills by manipulating these ingredients in a given space.
Ideally, beauty and utility are mutually generative. In the past, rarely was beauty an end in itself. The magnificent stained-glass windows of Chartres were no less utilitarian than was the Parthenon or the Pyramid of Cheops. The function of the exterior decoration of the great Gothic cathedrals was to invite entry; the rose windows inside provided the spiritual mood. Interpreted in the light of our own experiences, this philosophy still prevails.
An erroneous conception of the graphic designer’s function is to imagine that in order to produce a “good layout” all he need do is make a pleasing arrangement of miscellaneous elements. What is implied is that this may be accomplished simply by pushing these elements around, until something happens. At best, this procedure involves the time-consuming uncertainties of trial and error, and at worst, an indifference to plan, order, or discipline.
The designer does not, as a rule, begin with some preconceived idea. Rather, the idea is (or should be) the result of careful study and observation, and the design a product of that idea. In order, therefore, to achieve an effective solution to his problem, the designer must necessarily go through some sort of mental process. Consciously or not, he analyzes, interprets, formulates. He is aware of the scientific and technological developments in his own and kindred fields. He improvises, invents, or discovers new techniques and combinations. He co-ordinates and integrates his material so that he may restate his problem in terms of ideas, signs, symbols, pictures. He unifies, simplifies, and eliminates superfluities. He symbolizes — abstracts from his material by association and analogy. He intensifies and reinforces his symbol with appropriate accessories to achieve clarity and interest. He draws upon instinct and intuition. He considers the spectator, his feelings and predilections.
The designer is primarily confronted with three classes of material: a) the given material: product, copy, slogan, logotype, format, media, production process; b) the formal material: space, contrast, proportion, harmony, rhythm, repetition, line, mass, shape, color, weight, volume, value, texture; c) the psychological material: visual perception and optical illusion problems, the spectators’ instincts, intuitions, and emotions as well as the designer’s own neesd.
It is in symbolic, visual terms that the designer ultimately realizes his perceptions and experiences; and it is in a world of symbols that man lives. The symbol is thus the common language between artist and spectator.
Words like simplified, stylized, geometric, abstract, two-dimensional, flat, non-representational, non-mimetic are commonly associated, sometimes incorrectly, with the term symbol. It is true that the depiction of most distinctive symbols does fit the image these words help to characterize visually; but it is not true that the symbol has to be simplified (etc.) in order to qualify as a symbol. The fact that some of the best symbols are simplified images merely points to the effectiveness of simplicity but not to the meaning of the word per se. In essence, it is not what it looks like but what it does that defines a symbol. A five-point star, the picture of a little dog listening to his master’s voice, a steel engraving of George Washington, or the Eiffel Tower itself — are all symbols!
The fathomlessness of the male and female principles (Yang and Yin) is called God.
The essence of Chinese philosophy is revealed in the expression: “All things are produced by the action of the male and female principles.”
The visual message which professes to be profound or elegant often boomerangs as mere pretensions; and the frame of mind which looks at humor as trivial and flighty mistakes the shadow for the substance. In short, the notion that the humorous approach to visual communication is undignified or belittling is sheer nonsense.
True humor springs not more from the head than from the heart; it is not contempt, its essence is love, it issues not in laughter, but in still smiles, which lie far deeper.
Frequently, trite ideas or unimaginative translation of those ideas is the result not of poor subject matter but of poor interpretation of a problem. In the absence of a fresh, visual solution, subject matter sometimes becomes the scapegoat. Such difficulties may arise if: a) the designer has interpreted a commonplace idea with a common place image; b) he has failed to resolve the problem of integrating form and content; or c) he has failed to interpret the problem as a two-dimensional organization in a given space. He has thus deprived his visual image of the potential to suggest, perhaps, more than the eye can see. And he has denied himself the opportunity of saying the commonplace in an uncommonplace way.
In practice, when an advertisement is submitted for approval, it is prettied up with mat and cellophane and judged as an isolated fragment. Under such conditions, and in the absence of competition, the purely conventional type of illustration may seem quite effective. However, for an advertisement to hold its own in a competitive race, the designer must steer clear of visual cliches by some unexpected interpretation of the commonplace. He does this partly by simplifying, by abstracting, by symbolizing. If the resulting visual image is in any way ambiguous, it may be supplemented by own which his more clearly recognizable.
It is a truism that the fundamental problem of the advertiser and publisher is to get the message into the reader’s mind. Commonplace images and unimaginative visualization afford the spectator little reason for becoming engrossed in an advertiser’s product.
Collage and montage permit the showing of seemingly unrelated objects or ideas as a single picture; they enable the designer to indicate simultaneous events or scenes which by more conventional methods would result in a series of isolated pictures. Compactness of the complex message in a single picture more readily enables the spectator to focus his attention on the advertiser’s message.
The advantages of free speech.
When men can freely communicate their thoughts and their sufferings, real or imaginary, their passions spend themselves in the air, like gunpowder scattered upon the surface; but pent up by terrors, they work unseen, burst forth in a moment, and destroy everything in their course.
The following are but a few instances of our everyday experiences in which the magical, almost hypnotic, effects of repetition operate: the exciting spectacle of marching soldiers, in the same dress, same step, and same attitude; the fascination of neatly arranged flower beds of like color, structure, and texture; the impressive sight of crowds at football games, theatres, public demonstrations; the satisfaction we derive from the geometric patterns created by ballet dancers and chorus girls with identical costumes and movements; the feeling of order evoked by rows of methodically placed packages on the grocer’s shelf; the comforting effect of the regularity of repeating patterns in textiles and wallpapers; the excitement we experience at the sight of plane formations or birds in flight.
The typeface which sometimes is described as having character often is merely bizarre, eccentric, nostalgic, or simply buckeye.
To distort the letters of the alphabet in “the style of” Chinese calligraphy, because the subject happens to deal with the Orient is to create the typographic equivalent of a corny illustration.
Even if it is true that the average man seems most comfortable with the commonplace and familiar, it is equally true that catering to bad taste, which we so readily attribute to the average reader, merely perpetuates tha mediocrity and denies the reader one of the most easily accessible means for esthetic development and eventual enjoyment.