The title quote is from graphic designer
Paul Rand, who is in turn quoting architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.
As a teaching assistant for an introductory print design class, I’m often teaching design rules that are meant to be mastered and then later, broken in intelligent and purposeful ways. Within these rules there is certainly room for the new and different, but without a structural framework for beginners, learning can be a vague and undefined experience.
As I’ve been learning design on my own, the above quote from Paul Rand has been a comforting relief from the pressure of thinking that everything has been done or that the only creative pursuits of worth are those that are entirely innovative. Rand allows designers to seek out quality without having to worry about tearing one’s hair out to be different.
In that vein, I’ve told my students in the past to approach furthering their design education by finding things that they like, and trying to copy the techniques. This may not be a legitimate path to producing work for class, but it is certainly a useful exercise for teaching oneself things to add to an ever-expanding arsenal of skills.
When inspiration comes from one source, the result runs the risk of being merely a copycat product. However, when inspiration is compiled from a multitude of sources and new skills that have been internalized, products can become innovative on an individual level, tempered by the quality of one’s inspiration.
I’ve been inspired in the past by various designers’ approaches to negative space, as in Paul Rand’s design for an exhibit postcard (above right) and Lanny Sommese’s poster for a rape help line (left). Both of these pieces of graphic design use negative space to convey a visual message. As I was recently trying to design a logo for photographer
L.A. Reno, I called on my cache of inspiration to incorporate the meaning of her full name (Linda Reno) in Spanish (“pretty reindeer”) into her logotype. The result is below, with added “bling” to reflect her unique personality.
The recent project I finished on the Center for Maximum Potential Building Systems made me realize that I love shooting detail shots. I sometimes forget to get in close and shoot those inanimate objects that help advance a multimedia story and provide visual variety. I think these shots from CMPBS almost tell a story in and of themselves; at the very least they set the scene by telling viewers that we're at a site where things are built or repaired, where architectural models are used for planning, and which (through the lawn flamingos and bumper sticker) is at once environmentally conscious and whimsical.
