On Saturday 6 July, 2—10pm, I'll be selling my weird wares at the Seaside Revival Festival in nearby Bangor (Northern Ireland, for readers from other lands). I'm in the throes of creating a special coastal series of ThreadForms, using photos taken from around the coastline over the past 15 or so years (I knew I'd find a use for them!). Threaded lines, typed titles, found materials and original photos meet in 30 x 40cm frames.
A history of eugenics told through buildings
Last week I was lucky enough to go to the Association of Heritage Interpretation annual conference, this year in Chester.
Three days. Lots of talks. Some not so good. Some amazing.
By far the best one I saw was by Subhadra Das from University College London. Das is a museum curator of UCL’s science collection and her talk, 'Bricks + Mortals', centred of the, now, little known Victorian scientist Francis Galton.
Galton was the first person to recognise that we all have unique fingerprints – in itself, not an insignificant contribution to the world – but he did loads more. He also invented and gave name to eugenics, the science of improving the genetic quality of a human population. Some, including Das, have described this as ‘the science of racism’ and for good reason. Back in the 1800s University College effectively legitimised this science which was, you will not be surprised to hear, adopted by the Nazis and has over the years fallen (or been pushed) into obscurity – although Galton had his disciples and UCL have a building named after him. If you listen to the podcast below you'll here about more well known names connected to eugenics.
Das has made it her mission to tell the story of Galton and his science, dragging it out of its hiding place (in plain site). So in that spirit, I thought I’d share a couple of links with you. Not exactly her talk from last week but a TEDx talk she did that includes quite a lot of her talk (and is also a bit different)…and below that…
…the UCL web page that is all about her exhibition ‘Bricks + Mortals’, and includes a podcast you should listen to (that is actually her talk and more). That's here.
Deborah from Point dropped me a line earlier, with details of the conference running in May. It's a stella line-up…
Between 2–3 May, the Point London conference explores the theme of 'Authenticity'. Point is a non-profit organisation of designers raising awareness of the power of great design to change business, education and society.
Through over thirty presentations, screenings, performances, workshops and events, conference delegates can interact with design heroes, thought leaders and innovators. The line-up of inspirational speakers includes, amongst others: Magnum photographer Bruce Gilden, Olympic Torch designers Barber Osgerby, Seymour Chwast of Push Pin Studios, Jonathan Barnbrook of 2013 Bowie album cover fame, Font Shop founder and typographer Erik Spiekermann, digital innovator Nicolas Roope of Poke, Blackpool Comedy Carpet designer Andy Altmann of Why Not Associates and BCC artist Gordon Young, Matt Webb of enabled product and service designers Berg, Adidas brand director Gary Aspden, public space designer Morag Myerscough plus exclusive screenings of filmed interviews with design icon Milton Glaser, Magnum photographer Elliot Erwitt, and the late graphic design master Alan Fletcher.
Favourite publisher Princeton Architectural Press launched their new blog a little earlier in the year. Definitely one to keep an eye on. There's been some beautiful, intriguing, stunning editions in 2012, continuing their exacting standard.
If you're lucky enough to be in New York this weekend they're exhibiting at the New York Art Book Fair at MoMA. Then at the end of October, they'll be at the first annual Designers & Books Fair, which looks amazing.
From sea to sizzle in about an hour. That's pretty exciting. If you like fish, specifically mackeral, then eating it at it's ridiculously freshest is an opportunity not to be missed. So when Sam suggested the Thought Collective team takes a day out I think it's fair to say I was the most excited.
When the day came around there were one or two doubts; the weather was looking rather unattractive, but no news from the skipper meant all systems were still "go". We headed north.
Sam had been before. You could tell because he was the one with the serious, professional-standard, waterproofs. He was ready for anything; ready for The Perfect Storm; head-to-toe in oilskin. The rest of us settled for more townly, less hurricane-proof, garb.
We needn't have worried though; we were only going out for a few hours and wouldn't be venturing far off the north coast near Portrush. And anyway, the water couldn't have been more calm as we climbed aboard and set out. It didn't change.
Visibility was low and it wasn't long before the shore, close though it was, became barely there. In went the lines…and we waited…and waited…
I can't remember who scored first. Dave or Nat I think. Then one by one, the others got bites. The box started to fill. It was really exciting. Beautiful, iridescent mackeral, accumulated. An occassional gurnard attracted, we figured, to Nat's ginger hair (she was the only one that caught them and they were her colouring), the odd whiting, one mystery-fish. But mostly mackeral. Mostly…But not on my line.
After a while we moved, to try our luck somewhere else. But to be honest, even though I joked about needing to catch something to exercise a ghost from my distant past (when I fished as a teenager I never caught anything), really, it didn't matter. Being out on the water, in such peaceful conditions was fantastic. And we had a few fish so we had something to cook.
We moved again. Closer to the shore. Our lines went in.
Bingo! Our rods began to quiver. Mine was first. Unmistakable - I had a bite. No! I have more than a bite; I had four of the silvery beauties. It was SO exciting. Four tasty wrigglers on my hooks but when I turned around, the others had bites too. Three or four of us at once. There was mackeral everywhere!
De-hooked and in the box our lines went in once more and more came out. And again. And that was enough. With more fish than we could have hoped for our time was up. We headed in. It was a superb experience.
On the way back we took turns at gutting them and filleting some. When we moored, we even sold some to some guy on the key. With what we kept we headed over to Sam's family place, a little way around the coast.
Down on the rock we fired up a barbeque. And with the help of some chilli and garlic olive oil, a salt and black pepper rub and some toasted rye bread, we feasted…like (soon to be) Fish-full Kings.
I can't speak for the others but I loved every minute of the day. What a pleasure and a privilage! So I have to say a special "Big Thank You!" to Sam Irwin for having the idea and for making it happen.
I'm sure you're on the edge of your seat but I'm afraid that blog post I promised last week - you know, the one about us catching some fish; then cooking some fish; then eating some fish. That one. Well, it's taking a bit longer than expected. So here's a photo of a lifeboat to keep you entertained. Did we need it? You'll just have to wait for the full story to find out.
A couple of weeks ago we (I mean TC) took a day off and went sea fishing. I'm not over-stating it to say this was a dream come true for me. I'd always wanted to do a swift sea to sizzle thing. You know, catch a few mackeral and grill'em on the beach. It was superb.
I'm going to post more about it, in detail, over the next week. But I just wanted to warn people: it's not going to be pretty; I want to record the whole experience; fish guts and all. And we did well, so there was a lot of them.
The point is, it won't be for the squeamish.
Last week I got an urgent email from Geneva. They needed a high resolution scan of my Swissair brochure for an exhibition of Swiss infographics. Happy to help I dug out the piece and brought it into work to scan. I was a bit busy so it took a few days to get on to it. An urgent call came in: they were getting impatient, could I get it done over the next couple of days. You know, the scans. The scans I was doing for nothing. For the exhibition I'd never get to. Could I get on with it? Of course! I nipped downstairs to our print shop friends who have a bigger scanner. But still, it could only be done in three sections per side. That was OK, I'd splice them together in PS. No problemo. Nearly done. One more section to join…
Another email came it: they'd found a copy of the leaflet. They didn't need mine anymore.
Now call me a grumpy old git but don't you think, after putting me under a bit of pressure, that was a bit rude? The fact that they'd found a copy, well, if that had been me, and I'd nagged someone I didn't know, who I wasn't paying…I'd have just kept quiet. Let it play out. If I hadn't delivered, it would have been OK. The onus would have been on me.
But I won't go on about it.
Anyway, if anyone would like high res scans of this, retouched and spliced togther, colours adjusted and images despeckled, let me know and I'll share a Dropbox folder with you.
Pssst!
Don't tell anyone, but I've been invited to something secret. Can't tell you where. Or when. Can't tell you anything, it's a secret. Can't tell you who's invited me or what it's all about. Better not tell you what that badge is for or what that invitation card says. Can't tell you why I'm not able to go either. You might not believe me anyway. Can't say anything.
We were out on Friday night. At the Ulster Museum, for the opening night of the Northern Irish chapter (pardon the writing pun) of this year's 26 Treasures. You might just remember me talking about it here.
It's been a pleasure, privilage and challenge to be involved. The miscellany of responses is pretty amazing; an incredibly diverse collection of personal reactions to an equally mixed bundle of artifacts. I can't show you them because I was too busy gasing to take any photos worth sharing, but if you're around town you should take a look in the Museum's Belfast Room before 29th October.
The whole exercise was a lesson in how very interesting the seemingly not so interesting really is when you scratch away at it. And with a top notch cast of both writers and visualists, the words and pictures (and objects and constructions) are ingenious, intriguing, sometimes beautiful, occasionally funny and, from time to time, perplexing.
It was great to see John Simmons and Rob Self-Pierson from 26 over here to support our bit of the national project. And Gillian did a superb job at organising the whole thing; she deserves a bucket full of credit.
The Association of Illustrators is running a business course for illustrators at the moment at The Rectory, St James Church in London. This is what they say about it:
This intensive course has been put together to help any illustrator acquire the critical skills and knowledge knowledge and critical skills crucial to building a successful career. Structured to be both comprehensive and manageable, each session is tailored to provide an essential step-by-step guide to successful self-employment. It is also an exciting opportunity to meet with peers and get indispensable practical advice and support from industry experts. So stay ahead of the competition, increase your confidence and develop your strategy for the future.
You can find out more or sign up here.
There's only two of us, at the last count. Northern Irish members of 26 I mean. Just me and Gillian. And I'm English so I probably don't count. I shouldn't. Gillian is, of course, much better qualified than me to be a 26er. A proper, professional, skilled writer. On the other hand, I'm a charlatan. Not so much a writer as a stringer of words. Sticking them together so they hang, dangerously weak. Held together by sticky tape and Pritt Stick. Sliced with a scalpel and spray mounted in line.
That's how I managed to wriggle my way onto the writer's list for our branch of this year's 26 Treasures. Now I'm on, it's woefully clear I'll be outwritten and out outwrote by everyone else.
A bit of background: Last year, the writer's collective 26 devised 26 Treasures. Working with the V&A, 26 writers were each paired with an exhibit about which they would respond with 62 words. It's all here. This year, the project has gone regional with branches in NI, Scotland and Wales. In NI, we're being a bit awkward. We're roping in 26 artists/designers to add a different angle on the thing. So there are 26 writers (not all 26 members clearly) who each get bundled with an artist/designer and an exhibit in the Ulster Museum. The writer writes and then the artist/designer does his/her stuff.
In October, the results will be brought together in an exhibition at the museum that will form part of of the Belfast Festival at Queen's. All pretty exciting really. And I'm really pleased to be working with artist/photographer Sonya Whitefield and a self-portrait-pot by Peter Meanley.
We had a Boy's Day Out today. To the Ulster Museum. On a Sunday, that should mean a nice, quiet time. A nice, quiet picnic in the park. A stroll through the Tropical Ravine. Perhaps a little diversion into The Palm House.
Not today. Oh no. Not when there's a flippin' carnival on. In the flippin' park. With a stage. Right next to the flippin' museum.
Now you might think: two young boys and a Dad, a sunny day, no need to hurry anywhere much and a carnival might be a recipe for a fun-packed Boys Day Out. That would be quite reasonable.
But you'd be overlooking one all-powerful, irrepressible component: Namely carnival people with big fucking heads. Massive heads. A monkey head the size on a washing machine. A huge rabbit head, the size of a fridge. A wrinkly old man's head, the size of a dishwasher, on the shoulders of…actually, a wrinkly old man.
You know, the kind of thing that is guaranteed to totally freak out your youngest massive head fearing son.
So, on leaving the museum for our picnic in the park, an emergency evasive manoeuvre was required: A sharp left, out onto the street and a swift dash passed the gates of the park (just in time to miss the giant rabbit-headed carni' tactically deployed there to entrap unsuspecting passers-by).
I had a plan. If we could just make it to Queen's, we could seek refuge in the University's Quadrangle. A plan that turned out to be even better than I thought. Not only was the Quad a perfect, peaceful place to eat our lunch with no fear of over-sized-headed performers, we realised, as we slipped through the entrance hall that upstairs in The Naughton Gallery, there was an exhibition of Neil Shawcross's Penguin paintings. Noah thought they were too blurry. I really like them. Well worth a short diversion if you're in the area, trying to avoid someone with a massive head.
Wednesday 1st June sees the opening of this year's Ulster Festival of Art and Design. Most locals reading this will know what's what. If you don't fall into that camp, you can see what's on here. The programme design this year has been put together by Leonard Reid and Peter Strain, who I don't actually know but actually think they've done a great job.
I imagine it must have been a slog; almost every detail, text and all, appears to have been rendered by hand with only sponsors logos reproduced from digital artwork. Some of the stuff inside is a bit bonkers (in a good way) and it's quite a sensory maelstrom but if it's a vibrant and diverse calendar they meant to depict, well I think they've done it with flare.
The few that follow my Instagrams will know that we were at The Balmoral Show on Friday. For over 140 years Northern Ireland's farmers have been shipping their livestock into the city for what I'd imagine is the Province's biggest agricultural event. I've not been before but it's great. Probably a bit more commercialised than it used to be; all the major supermarkets have stands to show how much they're supporting local producers. They're pretty slick; cookery demos and lots of stuff to taste. Then there's a load of smaller, genuinely local producers with stalls, many of which are fab. Quite a number of them were clients in my last position at hamillBosket.
The Show sees the country in the town and I guess it's a good chance for the agricultured to check out the latest kit. But the best bit for us was the bit with all the legs; the livestock. And yes, for me (predictably) it was the birds that caught my eye. And my lens.
The Design Research Unit (DRU) was one of the first British design consultancies to combine graphics, architecture and industrial design. Now a touring exhibition showcases their biggest achievements, including the Festival of Britain, British Rail and Watneys Brewery. And it had guest reviewer Johnny Cullen feeling all “Get Carter”…
Put simply, the DRU thought better design could improve Britain culturally, socially and economically. They certainly got off to a good start. The 1951 Festival of Britain was wildly successful, and Micha Black’s South Bank proposals are well worth seeing. Other work on display includes eye-catching commissions for Ilford Cameras, ICI and the Victoria Line.
The DRU’s 1965 rebranding of British Railways was another smash hit. Initially slated by the press, their Swiss-inspired logo is still going places 46 years later.
"A pint of bitter. In a thin glass."
The Watneys Brewery rebrand is the show’s centrepiece. DRU hotshot Milner Gray took the lead, and he aced it. Even now, the plastic lettering and slab serif font jumps out at you. Copied by countless UK pubs and shopping centres, it took me straight back to the Birmingham I knew in the 80s. And that's where the trouble starts. Some DRU work can seem like the font of failure; brutalist shorthand for dodgy boozers, dark subways and rough estates. Even its name - the Design Research Unit - now sounds impersonal, more suited to Soviet-style social engineering than considerate urban planning. So it’s interesting to see how hopeful and positive their members actually were.
"You're a big man, but you're in bad shape…"
Are you a fan of post-war British architecture, design and typography? Then you should definitely check this exhibition out. Rightly or wrongly, for me it captures the Britain of Mike Hodges' 1971 classic "Get Carter". It’s First Class smoking carriages, flashy new gadgets and strange concrete landscapes.
We see a Britain that's trying to design a brighter future; to re-imagine city living on a grander, futuristic scale. Misplaced or not, the DRU's creativity, vision and optimism really shine through.
“The Design Research Unit: 1942-1972” is a touring Cubitt Gallery exhibition.
I know what I'd be doing, if I happened to find myself in or around Birmingham between 12th January and 12th February. I'd be stomping on over to the International Project Space to wallow in the awesomeness of Design Research Unit, thanks to the Cubitt Gallery touring exhibition.
If you're in London during December or January you'd be a damned fool to miss Reverting to Type, at the Standpoint Gallery, an exhibition of work by contemporary letterpress practitioners. You can even get to hand print a personalised card on the Adana in residence.
Loads more details in this pdf including the dates and directions.
In anticipation of the second Build Conference, the organisers (well, Andy) has dispatched emergency survival kits to the select few. Actually, he might have sent loads out for all I know. One thing I do know for sure is that I got one, because here it is, complete with stuff and things that will be indispensable to the devoted attendee.
I'm not exaggerating when I describe last year's conference as life-changing. This year's is likely to be better and includes people I've actually heard of, like Frank Chimero and the amazing Jessica Hische (who turned down a commission from us, but I'll try not to mention that). Local beards Chris and Nick will be working things out on paper and Tim Brown from Typekit will be speaking - along with a load of other people that know things that I wish I knew.
I don't know what tickets are still available but if you know what's good for you, you should do your damnedest to get one.
I got so distracted by our trip to Lowden last week that I've totally skipped the official reason why Michael Johnson visited us. Michael had been invited by Queen's University to do their Creative Industries Fellowship Lecture. It was a great talk about where the ideas come from. Using examples of Johnson Banks' work, Michael explored the origins of concepts; how wrong thinking can often be right and how what you take out is often as important as what you leave in. And much more. From what I gather, everyone really enjoyed it and could have happily heard more.
Somehow I managed to get invited out to dinner afterwards with Michael thanks to Andrew from Queen's which was really nice. Then, the following morning, a small group of us met up for an informal workshop/discussion so we could grill Michael and get the inside track on the secrets of his successes. That was good too.
Add to all that Friday afternoon's road trip (with lunch and a diversion for chicken feed - yes, I took Michael Johnson to buy chicken feed!) and I feel like I practically stalked the poor man. Still, he was totally top notch company; extremely interesting and good fun.
And he gave me a signed copy of his book, which was really kind.
Following a stonking keynote lecture on, "Where the Ideas Come From" and hot on the heels* of Nicholas Felton's cheesecake, I give you: Michael Johnson's Pannacotta. Although, to be totally honest and fair to Michael, I made him take a pudding just so I could prolong the Famous Designer's Puddings theme. He only ate the blueberries, I polished off the rest.
Special thanks go to Michael for humouring me and, I hope, forgiving my rudeness. And also to Andrew from Queen's for inviting me to dinner.
* When I say, "Hot on the heels", I actually mean, a year later.
Rebecca at Birmingham's International Project Space (which can be found in my old college in Bournville) very kindly sent me a couple of copies of the booklet produced in conjunction with their current exhibition: Formats for books: Hyphen Press and design publishing. It's a small, but actually very nice, consolation for not being able to get to the show. A show made all the more interesting by the opportunity to hear Robin Kinross talk about the Press on Wednesday 5 May. The booklet is excellent: basically untrimmed, it's kind of delicate to handle; any false move, when you unfold it to read, and you're likely to separate perforations. Perforations, ironically, there to hold the pages together while it is being prepared for trimming. Eye mentioned this recently.
It's Children's Festival time in Belfast again and every year Julie at Stray Illustration does a lovely job at illustrating the programme and website. This year, I think she's excelled herself. To see more, go to the Festival website and scroll down.
Talking of films: I was gutted I couldn't make it to see Typeface a couple of weeks back. Gutted. Big job on/had to work. Thankfully, ace reporter and very soon to be ex-desk-buddy Jodie rose to the occasion with this full and in-depth review:
A thought-provoking exploration of the 'real shift in the way we are printing', Typeface focuses on the Hamilton Woodtype and Printing Museum in Two Rivers, Wisconsin where James Hamilton began printing type in 1880 and after 20 years was the largest producer in the United States.
Beautifully shot and complimented by the wonderful clunky-whirly sounds of the presses in action, as a 'computer-age' graphic designer, it was inspiring to watch. Endearing, sometimes heartbreaking, stories are told. Of why and how individuals became part of the Museum. Fifteen years of working for large agencies and design firms left Greg Corrigan (the Museum's director at the time of filming) burnt out. He was drawn to Hamilton Museum, feeling the importance of 'preserving this part of American printing history'; a theme of craving nostalgia in our modern age of speed and mass-production, runs throughout the film.
Other stories are from Norb Brylski, an 83-year-old retired pantograph operator and Bernice Schwahert, an 84-year-old former type trimmer, who was once told that a woman could never learn how to trim type. Norb explains that, 'he is as good at what he does, because he's the only one left doing it', and so, 'has nobody else to compare himself too'. Younger volunteers worry that the process will die with the last pantographers and trimmers and that nobody is documenting the process, an interesting point, since the film itself is documenting the process. In an interview, Jan Nagan explains the reason behind making a film 'about obsolete technology': "I became fascinated with exploring the changing importance of analog technologies in our digital age. There is this theory that as we as a society sit at our computers all day, in the off hours, tactile and sensual experiences become all the more important. People are craving things with texture that they can hold in their hands – whether it’s knitting or playing guitar…Then there’s the whole nostalgia factor: LPs vs. ipod, film vs. video, letterpress vs. inkjet."
Corrigan explains, to young graphic design students visiting the Museum, that Hamilton continued to produce type, commercially, until 1985. Which, not surprisingly, coincided with the arrival of the first Macintosh computer. Dennis Ichiyama, an artist and professor at Purdue University holds workshops at Hamilton and explains the benefits of allowing graphic design students to visit a working museum, where nothing is pushed back behind glass cases. Instead students can handle the individual letters, traces the edges, understand the space between the letters and within the letters. The results are unquestionably stronger, more thoughtful designs.
I recognised and related to the idea that creatives can crave for the tactile; for that which they can hold in their hands (I recently took up knitting as a 'creative outlet'). The museum's future is clearly about it's past, it's heritage; and how the letterpress pieces, with all their inherent flaws, are ideally suited for a return to 'letting the aesthetic be affected by the tools with which an item is made'.
Find out more about Typeface and the Hamilton Woodtype and Printing Museum here.
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Jodie Young is a really very good independent designer, working in Belfast.
Everyone knows about this I imagine but worth mentioning anyway. It's Art & Copy at UU this Friday as part of the Cathedral Quarter Festival. I'm really looking forward to it, it's supposed to be brilliant.
For anyone who wasn't able to make it last night, most of the exhibition can be seen here.
(This has been a public service blog post)
Delighted to see that the 111 Years of Graphic Design from GF Smith exhibition is coming to University of Ulster. For less than a day really though so get it into your diary: it starts on the evening of Thursday 15th but will be packed away around midday the next day (talk about pop-up!). By all accounts it should be pretty amazing. GF Smith clearly have a long history of commissioning superb graphic design; the exhibition includes material from the likes of Saul Bass, Milton Glaser, Paul Rand, Bill McKay and SEA Design. Not one to miss.
Then, the following week, SEA Design's Bryan Edmondson (SEA) will be giving a talk (on Thursday 22nd April 2010).
(Images courtesy of Richard McElveen via Dave at Grafik Cache)
Next Monday sees the first proper event organised by the NI Design Alliance. If you're in NI and haven't signed up yet, you really should. It's a double-bill with Pete Kerr from local design company Atto and Ralph Ardill from The Brand Experience Consultancy.
Atto do beautiful stuff. I think Pete will be presenting a new, improved version of a talk he did at Refresh Belfast last year. I wasn't there but have heard it was great. Actually, to be honest, I don't know what Pete will be talking about. But I'm pretty sure it'll be good. Ralph will be talking about work he did with the Manchester brewery JW Lees. Who were nearing closure before he helped turn things around; saving their bacon (fries) and, crucially, their livelihoods. I've heard it makes a great case study; think it could be a really good presentation for anyone involved with a brand in any way: creative, manager or owner.
I'm really looking forward to the whole thing. You can reserve your free place by emailing Sara at the NI Design Alliance. And while it's in your head, nip on over to the NI Design Alliance site and add your email address to their database so you don't miss out on futurestuffs.
(That's Pete…That's Ralph).
On 25th March local heroes Andy (Build Conference etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc…) McMillan and the Web Standardistas are screening, for the first time on this ireland of ours, Typeface. It looks great. Can't wait. Have done poster. You can find out more about the film, and watch a snippet, here and over here, you can book your ticket.
Very lovely postcards from Asbury & Asbury, written and designed to mark the return to prominence of the Macclesfield Barnaby Festival. Much more about it on their blog.
26 Founding Member and all-round writing-for-brands know-it-all John Simmons is talking at UU this Wednesday night at 6.45pm. This is ace. And this is why:
John Simmons is a former director of verbal identity at Interbrand and author of several business bestsellers, including We, Me, Them & It. He co-edited The Economist Guide to Brands and Branding, writes a regular column about brands in the Observer, and is series editor of the Great Brand stories. John's also a founder member of business writers group 26, and has served on the Writing for Design jury at the D&AD awards, once as chairman. He has written 'Innocent: Building a Brand from Nothing but Fruit', 'Twenty-six ways of looking at a blackberry: How to let writing release the creativity of your brand' and 'The Invisible Grail: How Brands Can Use Words to Engage with Audiences'.
Hope to get along to this next week:
The School of Art and Design - the founding school of the University of Ulster marks its 160th anniversary this year. To celebrate this landmark, the University has staged a series of events during 2009 culminating in this major retrospective exhibition at the Ormeau Baths Gallery, running until 30th January 2010. The exhibition and accompanying publications by Mike Catto and Professor Liam Kelly will present a comprehensive visual and contextual history of the School from its foundation in 1849 as the Belfast Government School of Art to the present day as the Faculty of Art, Design and the Built Environment at the University of Ulster, York Street.
The exhibition recreates the atmosphere of significant periods across the School’s history. From the life drawing rooms of the early 1900’s as recorded in the photographs of Alexander Robert Hogg, the flamboyant interior and architectural designs dating from the 1960’s by internationally renowned architect Max Clendinning to evocative works from recent times including Willie Doherty’s most recent commission ‘Buried’ shown at Edinburgh’s Fruitmarket Gallery earlier this year and getting its first screening in Northern Ireland at this exhibition.
This is a unique opportunity to see the work of a range of artists drawn from private collections and arts institutions across Ireland never before exhibited together.
The exhibition celebrates the achievements of some of Northern Ireland’s most prominent artists and designers who have been associated with the School of Art and Design throughout its long history.
Not sure if it was kind of ironic that I got myself in to the finger-on-the-web-pulse Build Conference via the ancient art of bartering (I did a bit of the stuff for Andy, the organiser, in exchange for entry). Whether it was or not, I'm damned glad I got there, it was superb; exciting, interesting, inspiring. Beautiful slides. If I didn't look ridiculous in a hat, and so don't own one, I'd be taking one off to Andy for making a great thing, just down the road from us. I won't go on about it, the Standardistas have summed it all up for you.
Tuesday saw the launch of the NI Design Alliance, whose goal it is to promote professional standards and develop skills "that will keep NI design a step ahead in global markets". It's a noble cause and while cynics might be less than supportive, being at the launch got me all fired up; keen to be involved and optimistic about how things might develop. One thing was clear, no one was saying they had all the answers...actually, no one was saying they had any of the answers, but rather, the thing was kicked off with a kind of call for entries, a call for ideas. So if you want to chip in, head on over to the NIDA's website and tell them what you think. I have.
Of course, what made it a superb evening was a great buffet...er...no sorry, not the buffet...it was actually Elmwood's Jonathan Sands. He talked about skills, how they're nurtured at Elmwood and how it's essential we understand that learning doesn't stop when we're 21. He also talked about how globally, the UK design industry is becoming increasingly vulnerable as design education in developing countries, such as India, is improving at a greater rate than our own. I got a very strong feeling, from what Jonathan said, that the problem was deeply rooted and that our non-design education system(s) lacked a vital element that encouraged and nurtured any serious understanding of how good standards of design can benefit the economy.
This struck a cord. How often have we wished we could "educate" our clients? Many, many commissioners of design lack any fundamental understanding of what they're looking at...just the other day a friend showed me a brief that asked, "How will we evaluate the effectiveness of your proposal?", and it struck me that the person asking that question should know the answer. But I don't mean to knock our clients; quite the contrary, I want to sympathise with their plight. Because while we can and should strive to rationalise and persuade our clients that what we're offering them is of great value to them, what we are collectively up against is generations brought through the same education system(s) that has done little to prepare them for what we are offering. Of course there are exceptions; a few inspired individuals who have acquired a better understanding of our worth by some undefined good fortune. I don't know about you, but in my experience (although I actually feel that we get by quite well) we come across a large percentage of clients with whom the struggle to persuade is great, sometimes even futile. And from what Jonathan was suggesting, it's largely because of the way they have been educated. It's not a political issue, it's no one's fault, except perhaps our own.
Perhaps this is old news, perhaps it's not true or I've misunderstood what Jonathan was saying? On the surface, to me, it seems believable. If it is true, tackling the problem is massive but I'm encouraged too. So designers (or rather, our representative bodies) need to look deeper and get out there, into business schools and even effect the National Curriculum. Then gradually, with diligent and tenacious work, we could start to find more and more new businesses being run by even smarter cookies; the type that know how really good creativity could have a really positive effect on their business. And they'll be fighting to get the best, they'll pay appropriate fees and won't expect something for nothing. And if my children's children become graphic designers, they might start to feel the benefit because it's a biggy and it'll take years.
(And they'll have to find something else to moan about).
Blimey, there's a lot going on in Belfast next week. Officially it's Design Week Ireland but I'm not sure if it's by design or coincidence that this is all happening. Here's a quick round-up:
Award winning, New York-based graphic designer Nicholas Felton has gained an enviable reputation for creating sophisticated and innovative information graphics. In particular, for his series of introspective annual reports in which he displays data compiled from his everyday activities throughout the year using ingenius charts, diagrams and maps. These are self-published under his personal project alias Feltron.
From his professional studio, Megafone, Nicholas has designed information graphics for Esquire, New York Times, Metropolis, Wired and Print.
He is also co-founder of Daytum; an online information depository that converts the data surrounding subscribers habits and routines into elegant graphs and charts.
If anyone's interested: Download Feltrometer_Poster