Archive for the 'On My Soapbox' Category
Today was a monumental occasion. At 6:04pm, CST, my 2.25-year-old daughter willingly parted with ALL of her Nuk-Nuks (a brand of pacifier). In ceremonial fashion, she “fed” them to the dinosaur at her favorite playground (author’s note: the “dinosaur” is actually a large dragon-like structure that snakes its way around a local playground.) For a toddler, this is a very big occasion, and only now, at bedtime, is she realizing that she gave up one of her security objects for good. This, of course, is necessary for kids her age, and shouldn’t be traumatic for too long, considering that she has napped without a pacifier at her daycare for well over a year.
Travel back in time one week – Ivy and I take a company field trip to the Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art to recharge our creative batteries. A Warhol exhibit is showing, which we didn’t know until after the trip was planned, which is an added bonus. The exhibit is titled “Andy Warhol: The Last Decade,” and is a collection of 55 works that include the Marilyn prints, “Gun” (my personal favorite,) and “The Last Supper.” Seeing Warhol’s work up-close and personal is amazing – the details in each piece, the colors, the variations in each repetition… I’m no Warhol expert, but I admire his intentions and technique.
As we were leaving, and I was reviewing the works I had seen, I came to a realization – every artist that has found some measure of fame and/or recognition (whether in life or death,) has done so with a signature style. If I say Pollack, what comes to mind? Now Warhol (soup, anyone?) Picasso, Duchamp, Mondrian…each artist created a style that defined their career. As an artist, a consistent aesthetic is regarded as a style. However, for many, a style can become a crutch. A safety blanket, if you will. And once an artist establishes that style, it can be very hard to deviate from the habit.
Fast-forward to present-day, my toddler now sleeping soundly. I guess the pacifier wasn’t crucial to her survival as her wailing once indicated. She has survived, and will probably sleep just fine. What about Warhol? Would he have survived as an artist without popular culture as his muse?
Thus brings me to the eternal question – does artistic style limit, or define, and artist? Both concepts seem separate, I know. However, let’s examine the details. Limitation prevents exploration beyond predetermined boundaries. In this case, boundaries set by the artist through his or her own habit of style. And it’s through that style that an artist is defined, hence one begats the other. So, by creating a style, an artist becomes identified by it, and thus is personally defined by the viewer as his or her style.
Picasso is arguably the most well-known post-Renaissance artist ever. To art history buffs, he is the co-founder of the Cubist movement. To the average Joe, he’s that guy that painted those weird abstract pictures. Either way, he is unmistakable and immortal, all because of the style he helped invent. But before Pablo Picasso painted Starry Night, he was accomplished in Realism, a style that aspires to mimic real life. If he was so good at Realism, why isn’t that what he’s known for? Simple – because everyone else during the same time period was attempting to master the exact same technique.
It was his influences and choices that took him to the level of success he later achieved with an art form that no one had ever seen before. But that was his style – a method that was all his own.
Warhol did the same thing by helping pave the way for Pop Art. But again, his style is what defined him. And if he ever adopted a style different than his Pop Art pieces, chances are few people would know about them. Why? Because, again, his style limited him to what he had become defined by, and what he had become acclaimed for through commercial success.
And thus it became his Nuk-Nuk – a safe place that ultimately defined him, and became his legacy.
As my daughter sleeps, and I think about all those pacifiers randomly strewn about the ground at the dinosaur playground, I take comfort in knowing that those Nuk-Nuks will not be her childhood legacy. She will not be known as the little girl that always needs a pacifier. She is growing up, and hopefully now realizes she no longer needs them.
And that’s the point for us artists that aren’t modern masters… if any of us are lucky enough to gain commercial success through our style, we should embrace it. But it can’t define us. An artistic style will only serve to limit our exploration. And you’ll never stop learning or growing if you find too much comfort at one place in life.
My daughter taught me that – she is far more capable of change than I am. I only hope that I can find the courage to break out of my cycles too.
©2010 Bryan Lester
www.DesLGroup.com
Technology is an amazing thing. I think about it on a daily basis, and how many of these advancements we take for granted. For instance, a trip from New York to Los Angeles in 1850 would take MONTHS, not hours, to accomplish. Yet every single day hundreds of people make that exact trip via the wonder of air travel, and only in a matter of hours. Or how about a letter, traveling by horseback, in 1850 – you think the USPS changed a few things?
Then there’s the year 1438, one year before Johannes Gutenberg printed the world’s first EVER mass-produced book, The Gutenberg Bible. Well, let me clarify…he invented movable type (an early version of the printing press,) which facilitated the production of multiple copies of the same manuscript. Before his creation, only the wealthiest could afford actual books, and most people were illiterate. Communication was done verbally, and those who could read, and afford to own books, were the writers of modern history. That’s power.
The Book of Eli, a recent movie with Denzel Washington, is an excellent example of what I’m talking about. In the movie, the post-apocalyptic world spawned a new generation of people who couldn’t read or write – books were useless to them. Think of the absolute power a person could have if they not only could read, but possessed a religious text like the Bible. Absolutely incredible.
Gutenberg’s invention didn’t change the world overnight. The availability of a printed book didn’t create literacy. And owning one of these books was still extremely expensive. However is was the catalyst for aggressive progress. Take the computer…the world’s first version was a big-ole calculator. Now look at us. In 64 short years we’re now in a 3G, smart phone, touch screen, social networking, flash drive, online data storage society. It all starts somewhere.
Being a grad of The University of Texas at Austin (Hook ‘Em!), I had the distinct privilege of seeing one of only 48 surviving copies of the Gutenberg Bible at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center. The University of Texas at Austin purchased copy #39 in 1978 for $2.4 million. Only 11 copies exist in America, and of those 11 copies only 5 are classified as complete – the copy at UT is one of those. No offense to the Constitution of the United States, but I believe that those 11 books are the most valuable pieces of paper our country did, does, or will EVER own.
And for the record, it is gorgeous. The craftsmanship, typography, color, illustrations…everything is impeccable, even after almost 600 years. What an honor to have seen it.
Back to the lecture at hand…the Gutenberg printing press changed everything. And up until about a decade ago, there wasn’t any threat to the legacy, power, and influence of the written word. Then 9-11, and an eventual US economic slump happened. I’m no historian, so I won’t pontificate about all of the influences that lead to hundreds and thousands of newspapers and magazines going under. I do know that consumer and commercial money belts were tightened, and that meant ad budgets declined and subscription rates dropped. Major US cities that once had 3, 4 even 5 newspapers were now down to 1 or 2, sometimes zero. The world began changing…it was cheaper and faster to publish online.
But change didn’t wash away the past. Not everyone likes the idea of the death of print. After all, an e-reader or iPad simply don’t have the same ease of use, aesthetic quality, or nostalgia of a paperback book or newspaper. When you’re done with an iPad, can you use it to pack dishes for a move? Can you use it to start a fire? Can you clip parts of it out for friends, family, or personal scrap books? Does a paperback book require brightness and contrast settings to read? Does it need to be recharged? Can you read an e-reader during take-off on an airplane?
Here’s where I stop the soapbox blabbering and get to my perspective. I love print. It’s what I do. While in college, I fell in love with it. The UT College of Fine Arts owns an actual 19th century letterpress, and I used it for a few projects. Through the Design program curriculum, I made actual books by hand. I learned where all of this technology that we take for granted originated from. And believe you me, after learning the ins-and-outs of the letterpress, you have no idea how massive an undertaking it was for Gutenberg to produce his Bibles.
The current state of print hangs in a delicate balance. The resurgence of the American economy is beginning, so more than likely ad revenue and consumer subscriptions will pick up again. But will the American people, or even the world, for that matter, re-embrace print?
My love for paper, ink, and the offset printing process will never die. But I also realize that I am in the minority of people who not only understand the technology, but care enough to rant about it. For those of you who aren’t like me, I ask you this…can you remember the last time you received a printed piece that stood out to you? A wedding invitation, perhaps? Or a really nice hardback book? Did you keep it? My guess is yes, but not for the reason you think you did. Most of you would say it is a keepsake to remember a moment in time, or that the book was $24.95. But I disagree… that invitation, or that book, are still with you because they are more than messages or words on paper. They are pieces of artwork. They are worthy of being kept, being displayed. And without you fully realizing it, you have an attachment to those items because of the aesthetic quality they possess. That’s the power of paper and ink.
When you are at home tonight (assuming you are reading this during the work day…shame on you, but thanks!), I’ll ask you to spend a moment and grab the most memorable piece of printed material you can think of. Apply your senses of touch, smell, and hearing. Feel the texture of that paper. Smell it…sounds weird, but it will take you somewhere, I promise. Now listen as you turn the pages or touch it with your fingers. The human interaction with ink on paper is a bond that modern technology will never break. And wouldn’t you miss it? If the world went completely digital over the next decade, you’d be telling stories of printed text. How a library smells. The feel of a nice piece of paper. The sound of tearing open an envelope.
I, for one, pray that day will never come.
©2010 Bryan Lester
www.DesLGroup.com
Designers on a whole, I believe, share common traits. Our inability to sit still for extended periods of time without day-dreaming, doodling, or fidgeting is a near impossibility. We thrive on stimulus, and our minds are like a plastic bag full of crickets. Some of us are more sedate than others, but make no mistake we all share in these characteristics in one form or another. In fact, I’ve seen an alarming amount of ADHD in younger designers – I’m not sure if this is a new development, or the result of an over-stimulated youth. But that discussion is for another day.
Sitting here, on flight American Airlines flight 1680 to Boston, does make me a bit jealous of George Clooney in Up In The Air. That sweet 10 million mile card he got at the end probably has some cool perks. And I’ve been in the Admiral’s Club – pretty swanky! But alas, my company’s expense budget won’t allow such luxuries. So, for now, I will enjoy the simple pleasure of not having anyone in the middle seat back in coach, a warm cup of watered down coffee (I’m a dark roast snob,) and my Apple Powerbook.






