Existential Designer Thoughts
Art • Web Design • April 19th, 2006This is one of those days in which I just don’t feel on top of my mountain. Paradoxically, the day started with the happy discovery that Digital Web Magazine published an article that uses one of my designs to illustrate good use of color. Back in November I knew my design would be used, but I didn’t know when the article would come out. Joey’s reply when I forwarded the link to him: “Did you know you were doing all that with color?”.
It’s funny how other people know your face better than you do, and at least for me, at least up until now, it’s also interesting that other people have a more clear definition of my design style than I do. I think it started some time ago in Figure Drawing classes… There was this girl (thousands of years younger than me) with whom I had a few other classes. I LOVED her drawings. Every one of her pieces looked like she had used the entire box of charcoals on it. Her drawings were so rich in contrast… so moody… so bold. I wanted them to be mine. I would tell her “I hate you. Your drawing is gorgeous”. She’d reply “I LOVE yours: It’s so subtle and peaceful”.
Subtle. Clean. Soothing. Those are the most recurring adjectives used by others to describe my artistic work. I’m talking about both art and web design, though lately the feedback mostly refers to web work since I haven’t done much art in a while. Some people have mentioned “clean lines”, but I tend to think this expression is overused and most people simply mean “clean” when they say it. My portfolio web site is usually bookmarked as “clean design”, so there you go: More “clean”.
Clean is good. I like clean. Corporate and informational web sites desperately need clean. Subtle, soft, and soothing also sound good to me now. At first, I rejected the labels. I wanted to be bold. But it just doesn’t work like that. Subtle is in my drawings, my watercolors, and my design comps. Very few times I’ve tried to fight the tendency with disastrous results that are safely hidden under my mattress. By now I’m ok with being soft, subtle, and soothing. Just like I eventually came to terms with my name. I have embraced “my natural style” and tried to build on it. There are enough bold artists out there to take care of obscure rock bands. Not me. But it’s funny how I don’t consciously plan to create subtle design.
I don’t know how to feel about that. Although I’ve self trained and taken several art and design classes for many years, I don’t have BFA or MFA degrees, and that has always made me self-conscious. I didn’t feel comfortable enough calling myself a designer until I actually got an in-house Web Designer job at a respectable e-commerce company. So, every once in a while I’ll feel weird like that again. Like maybe I’m less of a designer because I didn’t go to Art school for five years.
One of the most memorable lessons I got out of a Design class was from an article I was supposed to read and illustrate to the class with a design piece. The main idea I remember is that ALL elements in a design should be placed in a thought-out way to support other elements. The article was specific about the angles of lines: It illustrated pieces where even the seemingly random abstract background included lines or visual clues that mimicked other lines in the piece. Bottom line: Repetition gets better results than randomness. So, that’s something I usually try to remember in my designs.
I also pay attention to my color palettes, and I usually begin with a vague idea of the visual concept I want to go for. But I have to say: Not everything I do is preceded by the conscious intention of applying one of the sacred design principles. When my husband asked today if I had meant to “do all that with color”, my answer was vague. I think I put a lot of thought into many of the decisions I make as I design, but the truth is that the soul of each design simply reveals itself as I work. I never know exactly what I’m going to come up with. I just start with an element I really like, and I make everything else work with it… mostly guided by what feels right. I sense when something is not working, and when I get in trouble, I ask the principles for help.
I don’t know if that methodology makes me a bad designer, or a fake one. I’m really proud of my portfolio and I try to be very critical about my design work. I have received very positive feedback on my work from clients and talented professionals with Art majors. But every once in a while I’ll read somebody’s general opinion that makes me think of this question: Is it ok to call myself a designer? An artist?
Blogging about this is not a request for sympathetic comments or a search for public approval. As the rest of my initial posts on this site, I write about it because I think this is one of those thoughts I want to remember. The sun will come out tomorrow, and life and work will take over these existential reflections.
