I recently watched a most fascinating film. It was so good that my husband and I watched it again a few days later, and then he felt it necessary to actually purchase the DVD and companion book. We do not own many DVDs, so that gives you an indication of exactly how compelling this film was. It is called “Helvetica,” and that pretty much sums up the film’s subject. It is a paean to the typeface, with many designers weighing in on how it has affected their life. I must admit that Helvetica has become so ubiquitous that I don’t pay much attention to it, and I never think of using it. This film has changed all that for me. I have a new respect for it, as a result of seeing a number of inspirational designs that employ the font. So I have decided that I owe it to the font to try it out. And in some large and obvious way. I am aware of walking that fine line between simple, clean and powerful…and simple, clean and boring. This is the challenge.
Did you see the recent Times Style magazine? It was the one with Natalie Portman on the cover. I was particularly struck by Editor Stefano Tonchi’s note concerning the introduction of the magazine on the web. He professes his love for the feel of magazines, the weight of the paper, the feeling of flipping the pages, but knows that the electronic version of his magazine can reach so many more people. He states that much of what we see on the web is visually unpleasant, busy and clunky. So true. In an effort to make the “virtual experience as sensual as the written one,” he has focused on the things that the paper version can never supply: sound and movement.—————————————— The theatre has just hired an email content management company to handle all our email blasts. Yet this requires the acquisition of email addresses from our patrons. I don’t know about you, but I am very selective about giving out my email address. But one cannot fight this technology; it is here to stay, to evolve, to be one with our lives. Someday historians will look back on this period of web infancy and muse about our attempts to create, become comfortable, understand and navigate around our fairly new virtual world.
Today I read an article in the CT Post about “The Santaland Diaries.” Thomas Sadoski, who plays “Crumpet” was talking about having “eureka!” moments: where the solution to a particular stage problem will suddenly pop into his head…often months later. It is the same feeling I’m sure we’ve all had when reacting to certain situations. It is always easier to figure out the most appropriate reaction in hindsight. Designing is often like that as well. Sometimes you see things in the final printed piece that you never would have noticed while in the design process. There are times I have looked at my work and thought “what possessed me to do THAT?” Other times I have worked on a design to the point where I cannot imagine why I was initially excited about it. Often I will pull out these pieces years later and realize that they actually were good, and that they succeeded in doing what they were supposed to do. Time and distance often helps.
I went to my high school reunion last weekend. We have one every 5 years and I’ve gone to all of them. I guess I want to show my graduating class that I have survived, thrived, succeeded, and that I am proud enough of my accomplishments to continue to show up. One former classmate has not been so fortunate. Although he has built a successful business, he is still tormented by demons and bullies from the past. He was very upset to see a typo in a printed flyer from the reunion photographer. His reaction seemed a bit over the top to me; being in the print and design field, you get used to these things. I showed this flyer to a number of people, and no one saw the typo, even after being told to look for it. Recently a Long Wharf piece came back from the printer with an unfortunate ommission. It is just one of those moments when you realize that as careful as you have tried to be, something just slipped by unnoticed. In the newspaper business this happens often. Sometimes it happens in front page headlines, and even though many many people are staring at it for several hours before it goes on press, it somehow still winds up in print. I take it as a message to breathe, slow down and pay attention. Even when you are too busy to think.
I love Donald Margulies’ comment about life being too short for The New Yorker. I couldn’t agree more! I am constantly juggling my New Yorker reading with all my other reading. If I read a novel I get behind on The New Yorker. If I keep up with The New Yorker I get behind on all my other reading. It really makes me crazy that they come out with a summer reading issue every year. Since when does life stop in the summer? Do I have more time to read in the summer? No…in fact I’m much busier in the summer, with my garden and my biking, to carve out any extra reading time!
Moving right along….there was a wonderful large graphic in the Times recently (yes, I try to keep up with the Times as well!) about campaign logos. The artist, Ward Sutton, analyzes all the presidential campaign logos for color choice, impact, and overall look. In the last panel, he acknowledges that it is all in the eyes of the beholder anyway. Nothing could be more true. This is a constant challenge for those of us in the visual arts. It isn’t enough if you know your design works in all the ways it should; if the client doesn’t like it (for whatever subjective reason) it is back to the drawing board.
It’s a rainy Friday, the end of another busy week. I watched a run-through of The Price on Wednesday. It is always a revelation to see the almost-finished product. It makes me realize that what we all do here is so vitally important on so many levels. It is easy to forget that in the midst of all the backstage drama. The fact that we create something from nothing is a constant source of amazement to me. Even though I have gotten better at imagining how a particular production might look as I am reading the play, I am still inspired and surprised by all of the creative choices.
Anyway, as I was sitting on a prop couch against the wall watching the run-through, I started to fantasize about the notion of getting rid of all the theatre seats, extending the set into the empty space, and filling it with period furniture, so that the audience would feel as if they were really sitting in that old attic. Carrying the idea further, creating seating for each play that essentially becomes an extension of the set. But I know that the reality would be a logistical nightmare on many levels, but still fun to think about. We would certainly distinguish ourselves, though!
On Sunday I went to Open Studios and bought a beaded necklace from an 11-year-old beader. She clearly knew her stuff; her necklaces were sophisticated compositions of shape and color. Although just about anyone can string beads, it does require a certain amount of talent to make something unique and beautiful. It felt good to support a young artist.
My own interest in beading began a couple of years ago when I lost a treasured earring and decided to make a necklace out of the remaining one. Since then I have made dozens of necklaces, bracelets and earrings; sold many pieces and given many gifts to friends and family. Creating a necklace is much like creating a printed piece. Both situations require taking a bunch of random stuff and making something appealing and inviting out of it. In design you get a bunch of words, and if you’re lucky, some creative direction on imagery. If you’re not so lucky, you have to look at the words and hope that they inspire some kind of visual. Sometimes the words themselves become the visual. And sometimes the visuals suggest the worded message. It’s all just a big puzzle.
Then there’s the challenge of coming up with a visual solution for a play. But that’s for another blog.
Last weekend I went to the Paradise City Arts Festival in Northampton, an annual event where hundreds of artists and craftspeople sell and display their wares. I’ve been to many of these shows, and after a while the work all begins to look the same…except for a handful of people who take it to the next level. One such artist is Denise Shea, www.denishehats.com, a hat designer. Her work is fanciful and expertly crafted, and is a cross between something that Dr. Suess character and an organ grinder monkey might wear. She was generating much excitement, engaging her passersby by plunking hats on their heads.
We are all assaulted on a daily basis by visuals competing for our attention. In a world where much of the printed material for theatre has a generic, comedy/tragedy look to it, I am constantly looking to take it to the next level, but stay within the boundries of readability, budget, respect for the audience, and time constraints. Sometimes this (literally) means turning something on its side. Some of the best design work I’ve seen involves surprise…I don’t mind if it takes me a minute to get it, as long as when I get it it makes me go “yeah….”
Today I spent an inordinate amount of time fidgeting with one thing or another. In the spirit of “The Devil (or God) is in the Details,” I focused on how often I nudged a bit of type or art until I was satisfied. It seemed as if that was all I was doing. All this nudging is vital; the ultimate goal is to create something that is seamless; you want to make the end result look natural and organic. And you also want the viewer to be able to navigate with ease through the river of words and images. They shouldn’t have to work too hard or think too hard.
A former graphics professor of mine always stressed the idea that if you think you have finally solved the visual puzzle (and completed the assignment), throw it out and start all over. Not surprisingly, this was always met by loud groans from the class. I followed that advice today, after I had convinced myself that I had found the best solution. But, lo and behold, once I re-visited the drawing board, I found that the next solution actually DID work better. There are infinite ways to solve a problem. It’s important to keep that in mind.
I know I must have breathed yesterday, but I have no memory of doing so. Here is what I produced/worked on/designed/delivered to print between the hours of 10 am and 6 pm: an e-blast promoting Prayer for my Enemy and Jazz; the Jazz program; the Moth program; an opening night invitation post card for The Price; an invitation to a Development event; a Development invitation to the opening of The Price; changes to several pages of The Price program; vinyl window banners for the lobby; signage for The Moth; changes to an Education page on the website; a newspaper ad for Prayer; a poster for The Price; and an Offstage teaser for The Price. The years of waiting tables actually come in handy at times.
This is not an entirely typical day for me, although there are many days that require superior juggling skills. Fortunately I have a large library of design solutions floating around in my head that I can call upon when needed. It is one thing that artists new to the field lack.
In addition to multi-tasking, I am often called upon to “put the constitution on the head of a pin,” as a former marketing director used to say. In other words, fit 5 lbs. of sausage into a 1 lb. bag, and make it look palatable, mouth-watering and inviting. Good thing we’re located in a food terminal.
