Looking Closer: AIGA Conference on Design History and Criticism
This conference was held at Lighthouse International in New York, February 24–25, 2001. Conference co-chairs were Steven Heller and Alice Twemlow.
"Looking Closer" post conference website produced by Anthony DiVivo
The premise
Increasing numbers of designers and students are writing about and teaching design history and criticism. There is clearly a demand for high-level discussion of the issues and examples--both historical and contemporary--that inspire, validate and critique design practice. This new biennial AIGA conference on design history and criticism aimed to explore how historical analysis and journalistic criticism intersect and to establish a core community of AIGA members who wish to advance the discussion about the role and relevance of design history and criticism.
Steven Heller
Opening remarks
As you all know, when and if criticism is taught in school it is rooted in the formal "Crit," which is based on the notion that there is a right and wrong way to design something, which is based on certain rules as well as prejudices. So the critical judgments that are nurtured in school tend to center on what is good and bad. Although various linguistic and formal notions from other cultural, political, and business disciplines have been applied to the analysis of graphic design, we have not yet developed our own ways of transcending the simple declaration of good and bad. And this is a problem we need to consider.
This does not mean that individual writers have not developed keen personal voices or methods that transcend jargon, but I am saying that generally much of our criticism tends to be much too arcane for public and even too rarified for internal consumption.
Hilton Kramer whose cultural criticism can be tolerably astute once wrote: "The motive of all design is to change lives... even the most prosaic design always aspires to an ideal?"
Perhaps this ideal is what design critics can use as a measure for determining the relative success or failure, merit or demerit of a single work or a life's work. Ralph Caplan once wrote that "Bad design is not a sinister plot, it may be the best work of a bad designer." When it comes to criticism is a so-called bad designer's ideals any less meaningful than the good designer's? Should we only critique those who are universally deemed good designers, even if their work is below par? Or are all designers and designs fair game for discourse? At the moment our subjects of criticism tend to be kind of arbitrary. Shouldn't we agree to some basic criteria that we apply to design criticism? Where should the graphic design critics roam and where should they not trespass. And who are the critics? What qualifies one to be a critic? Should practicing designers be critics? Or should there be some distance that allows for fair oversight? Are people who "write their own reviews" on Amazon and other websites the critics of the future? At the moment there is no consensus. Maybe we'll hammer our some parameters today.
Last week I read a review of the new Chris Rock movie by Times film critic Elvis Mitchell. In one short paragraph he explained Rock's innate difficulty with his film role, which shed light on why many other comedians find it hard to make the transition from act to actor. Rock's career path requires that he elevate his public persona by starring in movies that demand acting rather than standup schtick, and he has not developed this skill as of yet. Given that I am a film buff, not a cinema expert, any insight that allows me to have greater appreciation of the process is invaluable. And Mitchell usually packs his reviews with critical observations that aid this understanding while not getting bogged down in the esoteric aspects of filmmaking. Frankly, this is what I want from design criticism—Insight into work that, while cognizant of formalist rationales for why something works or doesn't, clarifies the means and ends. I want to get under the skin of design and designers. I want to read stories that give dimension to two-dimensional work. I want to probe the underlying personal and professional issues that go into making this work. And I want this to be honest and free from the constraints inherent in being pals with the subjects of our criticism.
We tend to ignore individual motivations in our critical discussions in favor of formal evaluations. We tend to be timid when it comes to delving below the surface of our wares, especially when designers and, more important, clients might get agitated. Yet how do we achieve the critical balance between formal analysis, personal motivation, and business context? Why can't our critical vocabulary help people understand graphic design within a broader culture? We have invited speakers who will address this, and maybe some answers will come up in our discussions today.
As for history, how do we determine who should be chronicled, who and what are the historically important chapters? When it comes to history we owe a debt to Philip B. Meggs, author of the three editions of our standard history text, A Graphic Design History. Meggs' book is THE textbook and the touchstone against many other writers and historians, some present here, have developed their own books, essays, exhibitions, and seminars. His book has been both a landmark and a lightning rod, celebrated for what it offers and critiqued for what it leaves out. But if not for Meggs' thematic, chronological approach other alternative methodologies may not have been explored. Since Meggs' first edition was published nearly 20 years ago, considerably more schools have emphasized design history, and more scholars and students have developed thesis projects that have contributed solid research to our historical library. When Meggs' began it was simply enough to chronicle, but since then history has been filtered through various isms and otics, it has been integrated into other histories, and made less one-dimensional through cross-pollination.
Maybe the time has come for another basic textbook. Yet what that new textbook, or whatever medium will be used, might contain must be considered in terms of who are the audiences, what is our goal in making history a paramount part of our studies, and how can we make it relevant to students who are otherwise interested in the next big thing. I hope that this too will be discussed during the weekend.
Although at times distinct, criticism and history cannot be totally separated. We must have a critical language to assess our present and then write about our history. We need to develop our voices before we can hope to convey how our past has relevance today. By beginning this ongoing conversation here we hope to dispel some misconceptions of what critical discourse is or could be. We also want to underscore critical issues that are on the horizon, for example how do we critique new media and particularly the web, how and where does the consumer enter into our rhetoric, and, certainly in light of the Florida ballot controversy, shouldn't we better address usability and functionality in our critiques.
In this symposium we explore how criticism works outside our field and then we will work our way back in, ultimately, with the hope of discussing the viability of spreading our word to broader audiences. Or, for that matter, maybe we'll decide that for now we are better off simply improving our internal discourse. That will be up to you.
How can a preamble like this not quote Massimo Vignelli. In the mid-1980s he proclaimed that for graphic design and graphic designers to be taken seriously in the world we need to have professional historians and critics, not unlike those in architecture. Since his pronouncement we have produced a lot of paper, including a fair number of books and articles, but circumstances, including academic budgets and grants, being what they are we still have a paucity of professional historians and critics.
So, have we been taken seriously yet?
Steven Heller
End notes
It is difficult for an organizer to sum up a conference that has taken so long to develop, and is now over. So rather than leave you with homilies and platitudes, I would briefly like to list what I have learned. I’m sure that you all will do the same over the next few hours, days, maybe even weeks. And one hopes that you'll feel it was worthy enough to come back again for the next one.
Okay here's what I learned:
We cannot afford to be divorced from other visual and storytelling disciplines.
There is no such thing as design criticism, but we have to design rigorous methods of criticism that address our collective concerns, whatever we call it.
A strong critical viewpoint underscores meaningful criticism. Why write about design if we are not passionately opinionated. And yet, our opinions must be rooted on an impeachable understanding of our subject. If we have nothing to say, don't say it.
Formal criticism is NOT enough. We must understand and base critical judgements how our products are produced and function in society. Design is not a free foating art form without consequences.
There is a difference between criticism and journalism but we've got to develop better definitions for both.
There is a disicpline called critical journalism that if practiced rigorously, should be the standard, not the exception to how we write the stories of graphic design.
Clarity is paramount. While we must have a specialized language or jargon, it should not obfuscate what we have say to ourselves and the non-professional world.
New media cannot and should not be seen as cool, killer, or hot flash files. There is a lot more awaiting us, and our critical language in this area must reflect that.
History is not simply a collection of facts and dates, milestones and millstones. It is a living, breathing organism.
History is not neutral or safe. The critical methods we have for contemporary practice must be injected into our historical chronicles.
Our artifacts, even the most ephemeral, have value if the story told about them ads value to our collective knowledge.
We should avoid hero worship, but if we must Frank Sinatra has been placed in nomination.
There are many more lessons, but these are things for us all to reflect upon, and hopefully act upon over time.
So this maybe the end of a conference, but it is just the beginning.
I cannot end without thanking my co-chair Alice Twemlow, who is a fantastic program director and extraordinary collaborator. And special thanks to Lauren Neefe, who has been an invaluable asset on this project.
And thanks to all of you.
