the designer as
shit disturber


by rachel rosen

"Pity the high-powered, market-driven,
modern designers. They're well paid for
their commercial sex, but passion eludes
them." -- Kalle Lasn

Awake to the brink of exhaustion, bleary-eyed from a
glittering array of tiny points of light, face bleached
drowned-blue in the glow of a monitor; the designer sits
and perfects a single line. Outside, a siren shrieks down a
rain-slicked street painted in shades of neon, distracting her
for long enough to wonder: on which side of the
window is the design actually taking place?

Too often we try to shield ourselves, comfortable in
our safe bubble of kerning and colour studies. Too often we
allow ourselves to believe that we must struggle to create a
world of perfect shapes and forms, an anorexic, minimalist
utopia on glossy paper with plenty of white space. As we
make an art of the product, as we hurtle forward on an
endless quest to make more and more, we risk severing
ourselves from a genuine understanding of the importance
of design, and from our role as designers.

We do not exist in isolation from a badly designed
world. Design is not created in a vacuum. It is manufactured
by and for human beings within a specific social context. Its
importance stems from this context - it is the fabric of our
visual environment. Not only must designers understand
this, but it is also their role to analyze it, to become active
participants within it, and ultimately, to change it.

The designer is not an artist. The designer is a
loudspeaker into which the ideas of some are whispered,
then blasted out to others. Design is too condensed, too
sleek a word for what we do. We are the propagandists
of the information age, and what we create is neither
neutral nor transparent, neither pleasant nor pretty.

And to begin, we must ask ourselves two questions.

1. Why am I not an artist?
2. What is the difference between a computer and me?

Marinetti wrote of the Italian Futurist movement:

A racing car whose hood is adorned with
great pipes, like serpents of explosive breath -
- a roaring car that seems to ride on
grapeshot is more beautiful than the Victory
of Samothrace.

The same can be said for the difference between art
and design. Art is no longer a living, breathing, vital force. It
has been murdered - confined to corporate offices and
museums, inaccessible and indecipherable to those who
would benefit most from it. Its role as a communicator has
been conquered by design, by the mass-produced, the
mundane, and the ephemeral. Art is peripheral to the lives
of most - it is design that surrounds us, design that exposes
us to beauty, and design that shapes our opinions.

Why would anyone want to be an artist?

Marinetti's car is modern design, sweeping past the
frozen artifacts of the past. It is fast; more people can see it,
but it is there only for a moment, and they have less time to
examine it. Few take the time to appreciate it, choosing
instead to accept it as part of the urban landscape. The
designer at the wheel has a vague sense of its power, but
the car drives him with its own sense of purpose, potentially
either creative or destructive.

But it is not enough to recognize the potential of
design. It is not even enough to love the vehicle for its own
nature, to live for serifs, rules and grids. If one lives only for
design, then one is still only an artist. Just as there was
never "art for art's sake", there will never be "design for
design's sake." Eventually, a computer will be able to create
the perfect web site, the ideal proportions for any brochure,
and it will render these passionate designers obsolete.
Without content, without a message, the designer becomes
a tool, playing with ornament. The difference between
the designer and the computer is that the designer
has something to say.

As is the case with many professions, most designers
like to see themselves as apolitical. Aloof, removed, they
perform their tasks with extreme objectivity, their
emotions stirred only by the frustration of deadlines or a
lack of balance in their compositions. Seldom do they
address the ramifications of their work, the influence they
wield over the world beyond their studios. Could the
designer of the Nike swoosh have ever envisioned the logo
shaved into the back of a teenager's hair, tattooed on an
athlete's body, or sewn by tiny fingers in an Indonesian
sweatshop? Every designer can claim that it is not
her responsibility to change the world, that she
cannot afford to refuse to work for large corporations, that
she has no interest in or control over the conditions under
which her designs are produced and distributed. Perhaps
this assertion has validity for the individual, but it is self-
justification; the role of the designer is still political. Leni
Riefenstahl claimed the defense of impartiality, that
ultimately, she was an artist, and thus somehow removed
from the politics of her time. The distance of time allows us
to evaluate Triumph of the Will as propaganda that
contributed to the atrocities of Nazi Germany; we do not
have the same luxury with today's design. Whether we like
it or not, as designers we have a collective
responsibility with respect to our work, a responsibility to
seize control of our racing cars and force them, shrieking,
towards something better. Whether we like it or not, we
are far from objective. And yet, we continue to lull
ourselves, delude ourselves into thinking that all that
matters is form and aesthetics. If anything, our great
contribution will be to make the world a beautiful place.

Part of the blame for this condition lies with design
education and with the organizations that have emerged as
the profession begins to realize its value. We are taught a
strange sort of ethics that protects designers but does little
to recognize the impact we have on the world around us.
The deadly sins of design - plagiarism, working "on spec" -
affect the profession in isolation, failing to acknowledge our
social, economic, and political interdependencies. Is the
violation of these rules any worse than creating a successful
logo for a multinational company with a record of human
rights abuses and environmental devastation? Why should
these official organizations be accountable solely to the
handful of designers who pass their exams? Desperate,
clinging to our annual reports, our award-winning web
sites, our corporate identity packages, we assert: we are
professionals, this has nothing to do with us.

From Bauhaus and the Constructivists to Grapus and
First Things First, a handful of designers have tried to push
in the opposite direction, questioning their role and
transforming it from one of "making things" to "changing
things". They understood that design is something more
than "commercial art." It is a fundamentally different
process with a fundamentally different nature. We rely not
on our own interior world but on the reaction of a wide
spectrum of viewers. We have an intimate connection with
industry. Our audience is not the well-bred museum patron,
observing our masterpieces from a respectful distance, but
the pedestrian who stops to look up at our poster, half-
buried beneath another equally vibrant poster, pasted to a
wall with condensed milk and a paintbrush. Mayakovsky
urged the artists of his day to:

Wipe the old out of our hearts!
Enough of penny truths!
The streets our brushes
the squares our palettes.

And we, the designers, must push further. Armed
with our skills, with the knowledge that we are vital, that
the ad campaigns, the brilliant packaging, the flashy
marketing will not happen without us, we must provoke,
we must agitate, and we must reshape the sensory
landscape. We must approach the profession of design with
sledgehammers. We must go beyond merely assuming the
cultural forms of the new, the slick, the post-modern, and
we must use our creativity as a weapon. Design is not what
takes place in a studio, with a G4 Macintosh and a
structured grid. Design is the collision of the visual with the
intellectual, the clash of the inspiration of the individual
with the demands of the world.

We cannot afford to be indifferent. Our talents are
useless if we blithely accept conventional notions,
dangerous if we do not examine our own purpose and
meaning. We must abolish all illusions of objectivity and
neutrality and begin to view ourselves as an interconnected
part of a greater whole. Bleached paper and hazardous
working conditions lower our professional standards more
than intellectual property theft. Design ethics should take
into account not only designers and their clients, but also
those involved in every segment of the process - those who
produce our work, those who receive the messages we
transmit. Design education must expose the designers of
the future to politics, to economics, to literature, to art. We
must raise the expectations of our work and our collective
potential to encompass something beyond our own
individual careers. We must turn away from our monitors,
if only for a moment, and walk out to the street below us,
memorize its rhythms, its dynamics.

We must be awake and aware. Our voices must
project beyond the field of design; we must draw from all
avenues of experience and affect every level of society. We
must no longer be tools for whichever company foots the
bill; we must reshape ourselves to become a meaningful,
powerful force, to put our labour and our skills toward
significant aims. We should struggle to shape the values and
ideas that surround us instead of merely reflecting them.
We must begin where art left off, at the end of the
Modernist vision and invent new ideas, new design, and a
new world.

Don't think outside of the box --
obliterate the box.
























Bibliography

Lasn, Kalle. "Design Anarchy" Adbusters. Fall 1999.

Harrison, Charles and Paul Wood (ed.) Art in Theory
1900-1990: an anthology of changing ideas. Oxford:
Blackwell, 1992.

Mayakovsky, Vladimir. "An Order to the Art Army
December, 1918" Old Mole, 1972.
Kalle Lasn "Design Anarchy" Adbusters. Fall 1999.

Charles Harrison and Paul Wood (ed.) Art in Theory 1900-1990: an anthology of changing
ideas. Oxford: Blackwell, 1992, p. 147.
Mayakovsky, Vladimir. "An Order to the Art Army December, 1918" Old Mole, 1972.