Design

Louis Sullivan’s aphorism, “Form ever follows function”, remains ever true.

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I have worked at Graphic Design for nearly half a century. During that time I have developed some very particular ideas about Design. First of all, design is not synonymous with decoration.

If young Alice decides to apply colorful stickers to her lunchbox to make it, “pretty”, she has not designed anything. If some manufacturer of lunchboxes decides to copy Alice’s, “pretty”, lunchbox in order to sell more lunchboxes to Alice’s friends, that is not decoration. It is design.

Design works to a purpose.

There are two kinds of design; good and bad.

Good design accomplishes what it sets out to accomplish. Moreover, it does so in the most direct, intelligent, and effective way possible. A side product of this is beauty. There is an elegance that adheres to anything that is direct, intelligent, and effective.

Bad design is just the opposite.

Computer interfaces are good examples of bad design. They are roundabout, stupid, and ineffective. Six steps sideways seem to be required for every single step forward. Perfectly clear English words have been assigned strange new meanings in a sort of jabberwocky of digital newspeak. Useful technology has been made inexcusably clumsy by thoughtless design.

Good design is the means by which purpose is made clear and disorder is made orderly. Bad design is the opposite.

People have always designed things, although they probably thought they were just making something - as opposed to designing something. What you think of doing is design. What you do is producing. Modern thinking about design dates to the late years of the 19th century, and the early years of the 20th.

In America, the Architect, Louis Sullivan (1856-1924), popularized the idea that, “form ever follows function”. Walter Gropius, (1883-1969), proposed similar ideas in Germany.

Following Gropius’s appointment as director of the Bauhaus in 1919, these, and other new ideas about design spread throughout Western Civilization.

The Bauhaus, (Building House) was both school and movement. It was also home to several architectural luminaries, including Mies van der Rohe, and Le Corbusier. Meis said,” I don’t want to be different. I want to be good”. Le Cobusier said, “Less is more”. Gropius said, “Specialists are people who always repeat the same mistakes”.

The Bauhaus promoted the unification of Art, Craft, Engineering, Architecture, and anything else that resulted in building, or making. They thought that anything worth constructing should be guided by considerations of purpose, efficiency, and beauty. What are you making, why are you making it, and what is the best way to achieve your goal?

All this was not new, but the Bauhaus focused attention on these notions to a larger audience than ever before. Many were influenced by the philosophy of the Bauhaus. I certainly was. I had other influences, too, but the foundation of my thinking started with the teachings of the Bauhaus movement.

The teaching of the Shakers preceded the Bauhaus. Interestingly, they traveled a different path to arrive at a common crossroad.

Shakers were religiously inspired. They thought God did not look favorably on half-hearted, thoughtless work.

Shakers were convinced that thoughts, words, and works, should all be directed to the glory of God. Simplicity was their watchword in everything they did. They thought that, “whatever works best, is best”. Beauty is the inevitable by-product.

They also thought long on whether they should be making some new thing at all. Do you really need a new chair, or barn, or basket? If so, then you must make it to the glory of God.

The Bauhaus movement and the Shakers unconsciously reached similar conclusions about design. The Bauhaus through theory; the Shakers through knowledge of God.

“Tis a gift to be simple”, but, like common sense, it is a gift rarely given.

One designer, Herb Lubalin, provided myself, and my generation of designers with hundreds of lessons on how to transform concepts into beautiful, meaningful graphics. An example: Lubalin’s Masthead design for Mother & Child magazine. He set, MOTHER, in all caps, then placed the ampersand tightly inside the O of, MOTHER, with, CHILD, in a smaller point size inside the ampersand. It turned the printed word into art, and concept into evocative graphic. It may seem like an obvious solution, but it wasn’t obvious before Herb Lubalin thought of it.

Simple, purposeful, and beautiful.

Lubalin’s use of the ligature as a design element was preceded by the popularity of monograms. They were popular for centuries and remain so. Monograms are formed by uniting the initials of a full name into a single element. Monograms are ligatures. Ligatures are made by combining any two, or more letters into a single form. Lubalin’s use of the ligature was a typical feature of most of his designs. The playful use of typography; a Hallmark of his work.

I studied Lubalin, and other great designers from afar, through magazines like Print and Graphis. These were Trade magazines. I studied them like textbooks.

So much for philosophy. Now for some examples in application.

The first two examples may seem more like advertising than design. The graphic elements are minimal - concept dominates. That’s why they are both useful examples of my notion of design. I understand design as more inclusive than graphics alone.

I understand design as a way of thinking. I apply this conceptual way of thinking to almost everything I do: graphics; writing; music; marketing; advertising; or any other task that depends upon construction or assembly.

It is a way of thinking that is closer to architecture, or engineering, than it is to art.

My first consideration is the purpose of a project. What’s the goal? Is the proposed project really the best way to achieve that goal.? Maybe a different project would serve better. Or maybe the original project was exactly the right project.

These questions satisfied, I begin to collect information. During this period, I concentrate on learning. I make no attempt to devise a solution. Learning takes days; sometimes weeks. At some point ideas start to percolate. I ignore them and continue to learn. Eventually, some ideas become insistent. They say, “The solution will be very like this, and thus. I become convinced.

Now begins the tedious work of assembling the parts. Simultaneously it is also a time of eliminating parts. Some parts are necessary; some are just there - looking pretty, but not contributing to purpose. These I dismiss as decorations. (Unless, of course, the purpose is to decorate).

Once the proper materials have been assembled, I begin the final blueprints of the design (layout roughs). Construction completes the job. If I’ve done my job properly, the result will be: simple, direct, and effective. Simple, direct, and effective requires complicated effort.

Now to examples. I, and two partners (Ed Matuzewsky and Steve Farkas, formed M&S&F Advertising during the dark days of the Jimmy Carter depression. It was a time when attempting new business seemed reckless. Most of our friends thought we were crazy. We weren’t exactly crazy, just confident with the ambition of youth.

Our first task was to get noticed. Ed thought we should run a double-truck ad (two-pages) in Crain’s Business Journal. A two-page spread (about 18x24) inches in Crain’s was a pricey proposition. Steve thought it would be a foolish squandering of our modest resources so did I. We kicked the idea around. It would certainly get attention. It would certainly cost a lot.

After due consideration - We did it anyway.

Now, what should the ad look like? We conferred. This was one of very few times when all three of us worked on a project together. We came up with a concept. The ad should convey confidence - in ourselves - and in our preferred future clients.

The final result was a side-view, tightly cropped, black & white photo of an Arabian stallion at full gallop, with mane and tail streaming in the wind. Reversed out of the background was a small single line of copy, our logo - and no phone number.

The line read: “Tomorrow belongs to those who know the difference between running scared and running free”.

The Arabian was supplied by my first wife, and still good friend, Sandy.

The ad succeeded beyond our expectations. Crain’s was deluged with marketing managers wanting to know how to contact us. Crain’s begged us to supply a phone number with our next ad buy. We gained three solid new clients that provided us with a comfortable financial base for our new agency. But, is that an example of design? Yes, it is.

Design is more than just graphics. Design is the thoughtful construction of small elements into large effects. Design works to purpose.

Another example from M&S&F; also, the only other time all three of us worked on a project together. The American Cancer Society came to us for the creation of a 30 second fundraising T.V. ad. First, we decided that a 15 second spot would save money that could then be used for greater frequency. Frequency is more important than the quality of any ad.

Next, we decided that the ad should be soundless. Television never shuts-up. When it goes silent it attracts everyone’s attention.

Our visual was the familiar red logo of the American Cancer Society, set just slightly above the center of the screen. During the course of the silent 15 seconds the logo fades until, in the last few seconds, before it vanishes completely, A line of type appears at the bottom of the screen. It read: “Help put us out of business”, along with a phone number for donations.

This ad also exceeded expectations. The folks at the American Cancer Society were very pleased with more donations than they thought they would get.

Good design is simple, direct, and effective.

Later in the year we received Excellence in Advertising awards for both ads from the Cleveland Advertising Club.

Good design cannot save bad business. Good design can present your best face to a potential audience. After that, the business must deliver as promised.

Logo design is a distilled form of good design; often seen and appraised before anything else is known about a company. It is the first impression. When done well it will present a company in a favorable light. It should also suggest the business of the business. What kind of a business is this? Good logos will help with the answer.

The symbols of Medieval Heraldry were an early use of logos in the modern sense of the term. The word logos means word in Greek. It implies meaning, reason, and identity. (John 1:1, “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.”).

The Heraldic use of symbols was limited to identity. Current usage is also limited to identity. Plus - when done well - to purpose.

I have designed a lot of logos.

Successful logos must retain their distinctiveness whether the size of a stamp, or the size of a billboard. They cannot depend on color as any part of their effectiveness. Color is part of corporate identity, but logos must work just as well in black & white as they do in color. That’s because logos are often used in situations where color would be impossible, or cost too much. Examples include applications such as embossing, foil stamping, and rubber stamping on shipping containers.

The thinness of any line within any logo is constrained for those same reasons. So, is creativity shackled by all these restrictions? Not really.

When choices are limited, new ideas are more likely. The phrase “thinking outside the box”, captures the notion. True, the phrase has become a cliché, but all cliché’s start out as new ideas.

Logo design is often the first step toward other projects. Corporate identity programs being the most common. Massive effort is needed to pin down every possible use of the new corporate logo and colors. These efforts go on for months. They are very expensive, and very complicated. They also require lawyers, logistic work and much else beyond graphics.

That’s why such projects are usually awarded to only very large agencies. However, large agencies frequently hire small agencies for logo design, and logo design can often lead to more design work.

For several years I had as a client, Stouffer Hotels. Yes, the same company as Stouffer’s Frozen Foods. Both were divisions of the Nestle’s America Corporation. My work was with the department of Stouffer Hotels that was charged with re-doing the many restaurants of their many hotels.

Stouffer management thought that every restaurant should be re-done, and sometimes re-named every three to five years. I don’t know if this was necessary, or not, but I appreciated the business. This work usually started with the design of an iconic graphic to accompany the new name. This was not quite a logo, but similar.

My work for the restaurant, Ondine, will illustrate a typical job.

I worked with the charming lady who was in charge of all Stouffer Hotel renovations. Her name was Carol Corwin. She was not at all like most middle level managers. She was, in fact, a “classy” lady of good manners, and good taste. I had the distinct impression that she didn’t need this job; or any other.

I further imagined that some wise someone at Stouffer Hotels had asked her to take the position because they knew that her instincts would turn naturally to the precise level of excellence to which Stouffer’s urban clientele had become accustomed.

She was a joy to work with.

We began by developing an appropriate image for Ondine.

Ondine was the name of the little mermaid in Hans Christian Anderson’s beloved story. She is most famously represented by the statue of her that sets on a rock in the harbor of Copenhagen, Denmark. I gathered several photos of the statue. Carol, and I, chose the one that seemed most iconic. From this I designed a stylized Art Deco sort of image. Then I enclosed the Ondine graphic inside an oval that connected image and oval into a single piece. Next, I set the word, Ondine, in type, which I then cut into separate letters.

After much fussing, I came up with a curved and slightly rising row of letters that echoed the rise of an ocean wave.

Then I connected the left-side serif of the first n in Ondine to the tail f the e with an overhead schwa that echoed the top portion of the oval that enclosed the little mermaid.

These two elements were then applied to the standard items produced for every such project: menus, miniature matchboxes, napkins, place settings, and so on.

Ondine had an extra element. The restaurant had requested separation panels to give patrons more privacy. Carol thought walls were rudely obtrusive. As a solution I designed a three and one-half ft. high mahogany panel topped by another three ft. of frosted glass - with my graphic of Ondine etched on the glass. It brought grace to what might have been an ugly barrier. Everybody was happy with the results.

These restaurant projects may seem to refute my claim that design is not the same as decoration. Not so. The result was decoration, but the process was design. I had no personal interest in any of the restaurants I designed for. They were clients with needs: elegant settings and elegant accessories for their elegant restaurants.

I supplied their needs with reasoned thought. That’s design.

Louis Sullivan’s aphorism, “Form ever follows function”, remains ever true. It is the essence of good design.

Some designs follow function so successfully that their design goes unnoticed as design. One such is admired by every designer. Most people don’t think of it as a design at all. But it is. And it’s very useful - Consider the paperclip.

Many people have claimed its invention; Samuel B. Fay (1876), might have been the earliest - or not. Being first doesn’t interest me as much as the design itself. Variations exist; none significantly different. It is a masterpiece of simplicity, directness, and purpose. One thin wire with three bends, cheap to produce, easy to use, wonderfully versatile.

Ironically, although it’s form perfectly follows its function, people keep discovering new functions for it. Recently I saw a young lady adjusting something, or other, on her i-phone with a partially unbent paperclip. I imagine a small book could be written on the many curious uses of the paperclip. Of course, it would be an incomplete list, because folks keep discovering new uses.

The most important element in good design is simplicity. If your design is complicated, you’re probably doing it wrong.

Designers are often accused of being, “creative”. It’s not true. We just move stuff around. There is only one Creator, the omnipotent one. For me, William Blake’s drawing: Ancient of days illustrates it most powerfully. It depicts God circumscribing the earth with his golden compass”. It’s an image that has been in my head ever since I first saw it. It is both humbling, and inspiring. In some ways it has directed my constructionist notions of how design should be considered.

My initial notions have since been expanded by the long list of good thinkers I’ve already written about: Louis Sullivan; Walter Gropius, all the folks at the Bauhaus; Herb Lubalin… and so many others I haven’t mentioned. Each has shown me their way; of understanding design.

I am grateful for the education I received from each of them.

One more thing - an element that is crucial and nearly inexplicable: aesthetics.

Aesthetics refers to the feelings and thoughts we have about appropriateness, beauty, and good taste. Some things are beautiful, some are not. We generally agree upon which is which. We are generally at a loss to say why. This may be because we are responding to an ineffable template that functions beyond our conscious mind. It is eternal and likely providential. It allows us to recognize what we cannot explain - the perfect union of balance, symmetry, harmony, and completeness that reflects the perfect union of form to function.

A perfection so perfect that we can’t easily imagine an alternative.

Anyone who works in the arts will be familiar with expressions like: “It wants a little more of this, or a little less of that”. Who’s doing the wanting? Is “It” capable of wanting? Expressions like this are common because we recognize that whatever we are making has a certain mind of its own. “It” is the underlying template that lets us know when things are not quite properly arranged. We can’t explain “It”, but we certainly know “It” when we see it.

The ideas and philosophy I’ve written about will guide anyone to better design. They will not guarantee better design - that requires a cozier relationship with “It”. Such a relationship cannot be mandated. It will come as a blessing from the Ultimate Designer, who will guide whom He chooses.

Understanding begins with humility.

By K.L. Shipley

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