davidthedesigner

new year's resolution :: save dartington college of arts

It was Marcus who first drew my attention to the situation at Dartington College of Arts which is, in effect, being kicked out by it's landlord, The Dartington Hall Trust. Now I must admit that I really didn't know very much about this College, save for the fact that it was there (somewhere in deepest, darkest Devon). But I was struck by Marcus's passion about the place where he studied - if he feels that strongly about it's demise, I thought, then it must be a very special place indeed.

Now I have no axe to grind here, but what I will say is that a country that loses its art also loses its soul.

And so I took a little look at the situation and I began to wonder why an educational institution which is financed (to a very large extent) out of public funds should, in effect, be controlled by its private landlord. You see, the College is constituted as a private limited company who's members are The Dartington Hall Trust (the College's landlords) and the Dartington Hall Trust Corporation Ltd. And at least two members of the senior management at the Trust are also Governors of the College. So the affairs of the publicly-funded institution and the privately-constituted Trust are deeply entwined. Which, to an outsider, raises all sorts of questions relating to conflict of interest.

So the College, if it is to survive in it's current location, must raise an independent voice. One which has no axe to grind other than the pursuit of artistic excellence. And if you believe in the pursuit of artistic excellence then you must raise your voice - please go here and sign the petition to Tony Blair. Please make this your New Year's resolution.

And if you'd like to find out more about the College and its current dilemma, here are your links:-
Save Dartington College
Action Against Relocation
Dartington Investigator
Richard Gonski
Totler
Dartington Hall Trust
Dartington College of Arts

scheduled maintenance

See y'all in 2007!

my whine of the year

When I started this blog I promised myself that I would refrain from negativity - you know, it's so easy to fall into the trap of telling the world what a crap journey you had to work this morning. How you missed your connection at Basingstoke* and how the chocolate machine swallowed your 50p. Who wants to hear it? That's right - no one.

(*By the way, travelling doesn't get much worse than missing your connection at Basingstoke - the town once described as England's answer to Los Angeles.)

Now Ben over at Noisy Decent Graphics recently did a brilliant blog on The Design Disease. About how he gets incredibly upset by the shocking kerning on road signs and how he'll choose wine by the design of the label. Us designers, we all suffer from it - it's as natural as builders always needing six spoonfuls of sugar in a cup of tea.

But I sometimes think that having the design disease is like worrying about whether the trains run on time. Can you do anything about those road signs with the shocking kerning? No you can't, so why worry about it?

But I have to admit that just sometimes something really gets up my nose - and that's when I'm told that something is brilliant when it is, in fact, complete crap. And my nomination for 'crap masquerading as brilliant' for 2006 goes to the redesign of The Observer newspaper. And here's why:-

Now, design is all about getting the details right. I'm fond of the odd tipple now and again, so one of my Sunday morning rituals is to sit down with an espresso and read Tim Atkin's wine review in The Observer Magazine. And it upsets me week after week after week, because every single bloody detail is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Look at this:-

It sits in the top right-hand corner and it's called a 'signposting' device - something that tells you exactly whereabouts in the magazine you are. Just like a telephone directory will have a 'signposting' device to tell you whereabouts in the alphabet you are. Except that the wine review page in The Observer Magazine is usually just that - a page. And it's always about wine, not drink - so why call it drink? It's never about orange juice or ginger beer. And further on in the magazine there's another one called 'back page', which isn't the back page at all. It might be the last page, but the back page is the one with the expensive advert for something I'm never going to buy. If it was the back page, the contents page would be called the front page.

And the wine page always has four pictures of wine bottles - do you think your readers are going to mistake this for an article on pig farming Mr Observer?

And then there's that typeface - Avant Garde. Whoever sold you that as a text font? Look at it:-

Just how ugly and difficult to read can you make it? I know, let's throw in some minus tracking as well - that'll really make their eyes water.

And then you'll take some real care over the text layout:-

So if someone wants to phone Burridges of Arlington Street on 01293 530
151)
You'll make it really easy for them.

And then when you've done that you'll tell us that you're a world-class newspaper enjoying a ground-breaking makeover.

Well, Mr Observer, it's like the Emperor's new clothes - it's crap.

tagged - a threat or a promise?

Most people who read blogs will probably have heard of the 'tagging' thing that is going on at the moment. If you haven't, the idea is as follows: you post 5 things about yourself that most people don't know, then you 'tag' 5 other people and they do the same.

Well, Dan the Man has tagged me this morning.

Thanks a bunch Dan. I don't know whether to feel flattered or threatened.

Can I have 5 days to think about it?

pictures are back

So here's yesterday's picture:-

this made me smile #1

curlypasta.co.uk (via LOVE).

For some reason my blogger has decided it doesn't want to post pictures today - hence the pictureless post.

end papers

Richard from Ace Jet 170 has reminded me about end papers. I have a small selection (as images) which aren't actually mine, but are currently on display at the Crafts Study Centre in Farnham, Surrey. They are part of a large collection of material which was donated to the Centre by Muriel Rose. She was a pioneer of the crafts movement and used specially-commissioned endpapers to create stationery items for sale in The Little Gallery. (In case you're wondering why they happen to be in my hands, it's one of the perks of having a crafts museum as a client.)

Enjoy:

who inspired me #2

After Aubrey Beardsley, the second artist to really make an impression on me - and set me on the road to art school - was Bridget Riley.

That may seem rather a large leap, but the connection was always working in black and white (it wasn't until later that Bridget Riley started working with colour).

I revisited Bridget Riley a couple of years ago at the major retrospective at Tate Britain. And, much to my surprise, it was simply one of the best - if not the best - exhibitions I have ever seen. I find there are parallels (which I'm sure are completely unintentional) between her work and the music of Steve Reich. Though, to be fair, my wife thinks the music of Steve Reich is just 'noise'.

Each to their own, I guess.

perhaps this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

Today, this blog is dedicated to the memory of my eldest daughter Abi, who died on 15 December 1992, aged 16 years.

who first inspired me #1

Inspired me to go to art school, that is - the first step on the journey to becoming a designer. Well, I guess I always had a natural tendency to see things in a 'visual' way, but when you're young it seems to me that you simply accept things for what they are. I remember being interested in the visual aspects of television and comics, but what I saw was simply what was there. And I remember 'art' on the walls at school - like the Boyhood of Sir Walter Raleigh.

But it was just there - part of the background. It didn't speak to me. But when I was around 17 my art teacher drew my attention to this man:-

Aubrey Beardsley. Maybe it was just the pose, or maybe just the nose (a feature we have in common), but I became inspired by this man who seemed to have acheived so much in such a short life (he died at the age of 25). It was the first time that I could see that somebody could use 'art' to interpret, rather than just reflect, the life around them. And I was especially drawn to working just in black and white.

I soaked up everything I could - took out every book I could find in the library. But it wasn't until I got to the more liberal environment of art school that I learned there was also some more risque work.

And that still makes me smile, after all these years.