Design in Question
by Morgan Recker, Eme Lawton, Abby Fenn, and Kendall Gregory
As a group, we struggled with discussing, questioning, and critiquing design, design critique, and design education. It felt pointless, especially at a time like this when the world feels so unstable. What was the point of trying to describe why design is meaningful and impactful through design that felt meaningless? In order to get past this overbearing feeling of pointlessness, we decided to turn the project into an exercise in experimentation and play. We took the pressure off design and just created things for the sake of creating them; each print became a response to the barriers of design we experience and wrestle with as design students.
We began this project by reading two chapters from The Graphic Design Reader regarding design education and design criticism. After struggling to digest the content of these readings, we came up with questions of our own regarding these broad topics in a massive Google Doc.
Following our first conversation with James discussing the extensive list of questions we had collected, we decided to aim our focus in this project on taking the pressure off of design through reflection, annotation, and raw expression. Each of us took these concepts into a different direction and ran with it.
Morgan’s Process
For my process, I immediately thought of documenting my personal journal, as I truly believe that there is nothing more spontaneous/genuine than a document in which there are no expectations or limitations as to what you think, write, or draw. I began by scanning each page and then blacking out most of each entry on Photoshop, only leaving a few words poking through.
On the risograph printer, I then overlaid each iteration on top of each other, creating unique shapes and colors through the layers of pages. I had a lot of fun playing with the risograph and will be experimenting with more ways to use it as a method of collaging in the future.
Abby’s Process
I started my process with having no idea what to do. As stated before, the idea of this project seemed very pointless to me and I was pretty unmotivated at the beginning. I looked back over the readings and noticed how much I annotated and highlighted them, this made me think of a zine I had created last year called just a maker (?). In it I explored the difference between artists and designers through writing my initial thoughts and then annotating that writing. I decided to continue this project and annotate my annotations. I used read for all the new annotations I added.
For my next iterations, I wanted to call out the lack of female artists and designers mentioned in design history. I did this in a very direct way by literally going through the Megg’s History of Graphic Design textbook (which I’ve heard called “the Bible of graphic design” multiple times) and writing down the names of all the artists, designers, publishers, editors, and other significant figures mentioned. I found that only 48 out of the 654 designers/artists mentioned were female (I may have missed some male designers in my count, but I promise you I did not miss any females). And to top it all off, many of these women were mentioned in conjunction with their husbands (even when it wasn’t relevant) or another man. I don’t think I have to explain how absurd this is. After collecting my research I cut out scans of my sketchbook pages and collaged them on the riso. The second layer of the prints was very plainly stating what I found and what my question was because, as stated before, I don’t think I have to explain or add anything else to convey how ridiculous this information is.
My last type of iteration was focused on experimenting with the riso. This is where I really got to have fun and play. During this process, I was very focused on the form of the prints rather than the content. I was thinking of them as more of art pieces rather than design. I mainly played with collaging elements directly onto the riso scanner (instead of creating a composition digitally, printing it, and scanning that). I collaged and scanned my annotated readings, handwritten text, cut outs, window screen mesh, foam sticker letters, and even my hand. Through the process I made A LOT of prints, this is because I would make multiple of each original print so that I could and different layers of other scans and collages on top of them later. Overall, this part of the process was very enjoyable for me because I was able to work physically instead of digitally, which is what I always prefer.
Eme’s Process
Right from the beginning, I had a rough time with the readings. They felt overly academic and I had a hard time fully comprehending them, so naturally I had a LOT of questions. I tried to keep them as relevant to the readings as possible, but eventually I arrived at the questions that really hit home for me: do we feel like our design education is comprehensive enough, or do we have gaps? What’s missing? Why are you a designer? Do you ever feel like design is pointless?
The question “do you ever feel like design is pointless” really stuck with me. Especially since Covid forced us to finish last semester from home and with all of the social justice and political events recently, a lot of times I feel like sitting in my room and drawing or making graphics is irrelevant and unproductive in the grander scheme of things. What am I doing to contribute to the multitude of battles our world is facing right now? Is this enough? But this is all I have — being creative is the best way I know how to express myself, my views, and communicate with others about what’s happening. And to that point, not all design needs to be conceptual or profound. Design can exist solely for the designer, and it can exist for no other purpose than for fun.
In an exercise in taking the pressure off myself, I created 25 iterations in a much shorter time frame than usual to force myself not to overthink, sort of like a visual brain dump. I wanted my voice to come through these sketches, and I was able to give form to my humor, cynicism, and light-hearted self-deprecation. The iterative process was much more fun than I expected and it was extremely therapeutic to be so honest. From there, I experimented even further with the riso printing. I basically just broke apart my favorite iterations and used those layers to build on each other in ways I wasn’t able to digitally. I’ve been using the riso printer frequently this semester, so this was a great excuse to become more well-versed in using it, and give myself free reign to iterate as much as I wanted. There’s something about the physicality of riso that captivates me and gets me so excited about design possibilities. This was by far my favorite part of the process — if the entire rest of the senior class didn’t also need to use the riso, I could have stayed there and printed layers on layers on layers all day.
By the end of the 3 hours I spent printing, I had a fat stack of wet prints, compounded excitement for our installation, and a renewed passion for design. Cutting and collaging our iterations was even more therapeutic than printing — my brain felt like it was clearing up and it felt amazing not to treat these pieces as precious objects for once. Being able to cut up my own work also felt like a small rebellion against my perfectionist tendencies. The icing on the cake was the vinyl — I’ve been doodling this really ambiguous, messy figure (its only feature is a belly button) since getting sent home from school in March, and it’s served as a neutral vehicle to express my own feelings visually ever since. I did a sketch of this figure dropkicking its brain as a quick little depiction of how frustrated I was feeling with myself, and way more people could relate to it than I expected. We came up with the idea of printing it life-size in vinyl as a grounding element for our collaged riso prints, and as a fun and cynical way to sum up our feelings both through this process and as designers in general. Seeing a doodle that usually only exists in corners of my sketchbook blown up to 4.5 feet tall on the gallery wall was the most excited I’ve been about a piece of my own work in a really long time.
Kendall’s Process
I also struggled at the start of this project to pinpoint exactly what subject I wanted to explore. There were so many questions to consider about graphic design that it felt almost impossible to give them all the time and thought that they deserve. Abby’s idea of using the zine she made last year inspired me though, and I found a zine that I made in my freshman/foundation year in SVA, entitled i should’ve worked with charcoal: a journey through doubt in the artistic process. I printed out the pages, and went through them with a big Sharpie and marked them up; I responded to questions/statements in the zine, reflected on what I wrote, and even critiqued some of my design choices. I took these into Illustrator and began experimenting some more, taking some of the annotative elements out and developing them in different ways.
At some point during this experimentation process, I was thinking along the same vein as the wristbands, VIP passes, and stickers I had made for the Impact & Empathy project, and came up with the idea of coupons for designers. I started sketching them out, thinking about all the nuances that come with being a designer; imposter syndrome, breakdowns, photoshop malfunctions, pinterest inspiration, etc. This was where I began to find the most purpose in my iterations, and really felt the tone of our project come together: this sort of playful, self-deprecating, and honest depiction of what it’s like to be a designer at this point in our careers.
When I got to the riso, I had a ton of fun layering my iterations over one another and creating different interactions and color combinations. I spent a few hours experimenting with the riso, and found a lot of fun results! I particularly enjoyed the layering of my annotative elements. I loved this part of the process, because it was great to unify everything with the riso color palette and see all of the color interactions.
For the installation, we knew we wanted to make a giant collage on the wall somehow, but weren’t sure how to begin. After producing hundreds of iterations on the risograph printer, Abby and Kendall decided to organize the chaos through color, creating a gridded gradient on the wall to help ground the rest of the collaged elements.
The following day, Eme and I joined Abby and Kendall to begin collaging elements over top of the grid. We cut up posters and pasted them haphazardly over one another until the wall looked just curated enough to show our entire process of both feeling frustration and satisfied amusement with design. We also made the decision to have the iterations flowing from the wall and into a puddled collage of color on the floor, further adding to the installation’s lawlessness.
The following day, we decided to add one of Eme’s drawings depicting a figure dropkicking a brain over top of our collaged creation. We all felt that this figure represented us letting go of our preconceptions of design and simply creating for the sake of it. The vinyl portion tied together the rest of the iterations, leading us to the final installation.
