- posted on
- August 3, 2007
- by Liz Danzico
The Areas Outside My Expertise
The first investigative design I did was in graduate school. I was in my early 20s and learning about information design, when I went to see a play. I don’t remember the name of the play, or even whether it was any good, but I do remember being struck by the elegance of the play’s program. Afterward, I tracked down the typeface—Scala Sans—and tried to mimic the line length and leading in the most important print piece I was working on at the time: my résumé.
I was so proud of that résumé, but never felt like it was my own. Although I departed significantly from the original information design, I knew it was inspired by someone else’s work. Years later I went back to Carnegie Mellon to find that a course uses it as a “good example.” I still feel like a phony about the whole thing.
I’m not sure why, but depending on other people—for inspiration, for expertise, or for anything really—has never come easy for me. Last year, when I ran across a case study of the redesign for the New England Journal of Medicine, I was struck in the same way. And subsequently felt the same tension. I’d like to get past this, as some of the most fascinating discussions I’ve had, the most fantastic discoveries, have been inspired by something and someone else. Why not seek it out?
I just finished doing a competitive audit for a client—one of many I’ve done this summer. When starting any rigorous website project, it’s understood that we’ll look at—”borrow”—best practices from other experiences. If we never know the baseline, never look around, we can still improve on a model, but we won’t be able to measure that improvement. A close familiarity with Strunk & White (although I prefer the lesser-known Joseph Williams) provides us with the same benefits. Following all 43 Strunk & White principles will not make us good writers. But knowing the baseline, what is considered a best practice, will give us context by which to judge our work.
Being inspired by a form—whether its an aesthetic or functional one—is not only legitimate, it is recommended. Perhaps someday I’ll even feel justified to have mimicked a playbill.
The anxiety you feel about influence is why I’m so interested in style. Styles provide baselines from which to create your own ideas. You are right to encourage us to get over the guilt and pressure to produce work which seems to have no predecessor.
You really must read the book The Manual: How to Have a Number One Hit the Easy Way, written by the KLF. On the surface it’s about exactly what it says it’s about, but underneath it’s about the true nature of creativity, especially in a commercial milieu. It’s profoundly cynical (and hilarious) but in a way that allows you to discard every little bit of guilt you obviously feel about being influenced by other designers/ artists/ styles.
Oh crap. I lent my copy of The Manual to someone years ago. I just looked up getting a used copy on Alibris — it’s $300! The link above includes an text transcription of the book.
Your point about baselines is right on. Whether we find those baselines in style or in other patterns, they give us the latitude for new ideas. Although a bit dense and hard to parse, I give you a recommendation: The Nature of Economies by Jane Jacobs. In it, the characters discuss universal principles of development with statements like, “Differentiations become generalities from which further differentiations emerge.” In other words, differentiation emerges from generality (or baselines).
Frankly, much of the book may have gone over my head, but I love that it tackles the sticky problems of originality through a comparison of ecosystems and economics. Taking creativity out of my context (design) and putting it in another (biological diversity), allowed me to think about the issue objectively. If you do pick it up, just be careful about who you lend it to!
Right on. I always feel the anxiety and guilt to produce ideas that “has no parents.” To remedy that, though, I’ve been trying to dive into as many disparate fields of knowledge that interest me, “from Dada to dabberlocks, Dacron to ducksauceology.” You should try it. I find myself increasingly unable to pinpoint a “single definite source” of inspiration thanks to having so many things running around in my cranium—which is better than feeling guilty.
And I don’t mean to over-scrutinize, but if the resumé picture that you put up on the site is also the one that you mentioned in the post, then the typeface is Meta, not Scala.
Bram: You’re completely right about the typeface not being Scala. And while it’s not Scala, it doesn’t seem to be Meta either.
I have a scrap of paper of the résumé in question in the above photo, but no digital file (or at least not one that’s in an accessible format). I’ll scan it in this week and find the mystery font that way. Thanks for pointing it out!
You’re right. Meta’s ‘i’ is slab-less and its italic ‘a’ formed with a single stroke. The face you’re using is Officina Sans.
Oh my. Of course! It’s what I use now even. I won’t rush to switch careers just yet. Thanks for settling!