The Difference Between an Artist and a Designer
• A thought
It’s hard to imagine that someone who is not a fan of Damien Hirst would buy his diamond skull for 50 million pounds.
Someone who is not a fan of a certain designer probably won’t inquire about a job. But a fan could turn into a critic and vice versa throughout every single project. There is no failsafe for that. It’s the natural designer/client dynamic.
So maybe it should say: “is getting paid by his or her fans (and critics).” But that would invite the term “commercial artist” to this argument. And we like to keep it simple around here.
“To Pull a Stürzebecher”
• Humble proposal for dictionary entry
I’m sure, this has happened to all designers: You are browsing through a pile at a flea market and suddenly realise you’re holding a book designed by Müller-Brockmann. (This has happened to me before and hopefully will happen again.) You anxiously take out your wallet, count the bills just to notice it’s very cheap. So you buy it, no questions asked. Maybe you even go on and show this new addition to your collection to some friends.
How do you describe what just happened if any combination of “bargain,” “serendipity” and “design history” won’t do the job?
Please allow me an interlude.
Jörg Stürzebecher, a former professor and friend of mine, almost magically attracts these discoveries. Equipped with a stunning knowledge of 20th century art and design, he is able to spot objects of historic value almost everywhere—and he is eager to preserve them in his archive.
I always held his ability in high regard. I was even a tiny bit jealous until it started happening to me. My friends were afraid: “Simon, you’re gonna end up like Jörg Stürzebecher with no space left in your office.” And indeed i was! (To some extent, at least.)
So why not give this phenomenon its own proper term since it has already worked for one of TV’s favorites: “To pull a Homer.”
Let me suggest an addition to a designer’s vocabulary:
“To pull a Stürzebecher” or “einen Stürzebecher landen”—as you would say in his native tongue. Please feel free to use this term whenever you find something of historic value for a very low price or even for free.
Now, imagine Kramer storming through the door, holding a Crouwel poster: “Look, Jerry, I pulled a Stürzebecher!”
Criteria for Evaluating Projects
• A Humble Suggestion
There is this notion: A client can get a job done fast, cheap and well-made—but he can pick only two. What about designers? What are our options to pick from and what makes a project worthwhile? Please allow me to share some thoughts with the class.
In his book “How to be a graphic designer, without losing your soul” Adrian Shaughnessy establishes criteria for good work:
- Is the client happy?
- Is the job profitable?
- Is the project newsworthy?
I concur with his list, but there is one downside: It’s difficult to apply these criteria to a project which is still ongoing. Listening to your heart—or gut, whichever gets more of your attention—is important. However, it’s nice to have more solid indicators. so far, these have worked very well for me:
- Time
How much time are you spending on the project?
or to put it this way: How much time is left for anything else? - Money
Are you getting enough compensation for your work?
It doesn’t have to be monetary. You can get more exposure or work with interesting people for a reduced salary. Still, there should be something in it for you. - Interestingness
Are you getting excited about the project or are you performing mundane tasks? (Technically, you have to rely on your heart/gut for this one.)
Of course, it’ll be great to be able to pick two out of three, as well. But at times, one prevailing factor can be enough to justify working late, earning less money or feeling under-challenged and nevertheless be satisfied.
Having said that, if you can’t check off any of those, I suggest panic.
The Difference Between Solaris and 2001
• HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey
I’m a huge fan of both movies and their directors. They’re both visually and intellectually astounding, so I mention or reference them frequently.
Yet, there is a difference between the two I noticed recently: When talking about Solaris, I usually quote the dialogue rather than its cinematography. When talking about 2001, I “quote” the visuals — like the monolith, the bone to space ship jump cut and the waltzing space station (you probably get the picture, literally) — more often than its dialogue.
I wouldn’t say that 2001 has nothing to offer beyond its visuals, on the contrary. And I don’t think of Solaris as visually dull, quite the opposite. But for me, 2001 will always be a visual masterpiece first while I’ll always think of Solaris as a philosophical indulgence foremost. And I’m starting to wonder how these movies received their particular “branding.”
“Guten Abend. Wir sind die Pet Shop Boys”
• Pet Shop Boys live in Germany
After 15 years of brief acquaintance, I decided it was time to meet in person.
Their show was one of the best gigs I’ve seen so far. They picked up the Gerhard Richter inspired cube elements from Farrow’s artwork for their latest album and leapt with it into the third dimension. Great entertainment.
But there’s another aspect of that evening that amazed me. What I really loved about the PSB is to which extent they don’t take themselves seriously at all while being very self-conscious about it. To me, this felt more authentic than most musicians who try to act all serious. Achieving this might be the crux of pop music.
Both PSB entered the stage with two dancers, all of them hiding their heads within a cube and played/sang the whole first song holding the microphone to its front side. There is no other band I can think of that could pull off something like they did without feeling ridiculous.
After the show was over, a single song was played as tribute to the recently passed away King of Pop: You Are Not Alone. Pure pop magic.
For the Love of Vinyl
• Barry 7’s Connectors, designed by Non-Format
Lately, I developed an interest in vinyl records. I’m not sure about a possibly higher audio quality, but the artwork just shines. Apart from the obvious visual obsessions, I actually love the inconvenience you have to go through before you can listen to a song. It makes the whole music experience much more deliberate than iTunes.
Which reminds me of my childhood, when I used to consume music sans computer. Those were the glory days of the Compact Disc, for those who remember.
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