Newspapers make a last stand?
April 20th, 2009

Every morning before dawn, while the rest of the house was still sleeping, my Grandfather would get up and retrieve the newspaper from the front yard. A grade-school kid on his bike working long before school started would have delivered it in the wee hours. My Grandfather would then sit at the kitchen table, his reading lamp an island of light in the still-dark morning, with his prized paper and a cup of steaming coffee. He’d read the news and finish his quiet, private time by completing the crossword puzzle before heading off to work.

This was not only a ritual he enjoyed for himself but was also important preparation for communal activity – the discussions with both co-workers and customers that would follow as his day unfolded were often centered around the items featured in the newspaper that day. Certainly the delivery of news changed over the course of his lifetime, as first radio and then TV offered alternative delivery systems, but the trusted and sacred printed newspaper was irreplaceable. Profound. All-important. One of life’s pleasures.

By contrast, I don’t remember ever having seen one of my sons read a newspaper. I’m sure they must have done so at some point, but the ritual my Grandfather enjoyed is certainly not there for them – actually, it’s not there for me either, although I very much enjoy reading “the papers.” When I’m in an airport I often purchase multiple newspapers, the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Herald Tribune, the Times of London, and I relish reading the varied perspectives on a single story that are offered. But I must admit, it’s not a regular practice for me. Where I live, the local paper is truly “challenged”, and other papers that can be delivered come a day late, so while I might on occasion pick up a USA Today, even that habit has fallen off now that I do my crosswords on my iPhone.

The generation that my sons belong to has no connection to – or patience for –  the tactile sensuality of wrestling with an impossible-to-fold newspaper or the aggravation of dealing with the mess and smell of fresh newspaper ink all over their hands after reading said rag. Maybe they are missing out on something, maybe not.

Like many people, I scan the news on the web – but rarely click through to read the entire story. Skimming the news that way I often feel like I’ve just gulped down a fast food lunch: not quite as hungry as I was, but feeling slightly nauseous and aware that I’ve just done something that probably wasn’t very good for me.

Over the years, I’ve mostly worked as a designer of Internet sites and magazines – but I did put in a stint or two designing for newspapers, including a spot as a designer for the New York Times. There was something wonderful about telling my boss that I had to make a run to the “morgue” (where newspapers used to keep a huge library of photos for use in future stories. I imagine it’s all digitally stored these days). The curmudgeonly reporters at their desks in the bullpen (usually smoking, sometimes with a bottle of booze sitting in open view on their desk), the immediacy of it all, the sense that the work we were all doing was very important…it was heady stuff indeed.

And now it looks like that is all about to be gone with the wind. All things must pass, and newspapers seem to be on their proverbial last legs.

Its hard to argue with the fact that everything is moving much faster now and that last night’s news won’t do when you can get minute-by-minute updates from any number of sources. Some also argue that “real journalism” (whatever that means) is alive and well on the web. Ad revenue has tanked and the audience is literally dying off. It looks like it might be curtains for the crucial and romantic role that newspapers and the people who produce them have played in our collective past.

But I wouldn’t count them out just yet. Right now some very smart people are thinking hard about ways to morph the traditional newspaper into something that resonates with today’s lifestyle. Didn’t George Jetson push a button every morning and have his newspaper spit out from a machine in his kitchen? Maybe that’s not quite where we are going, but something like it may yet happen. There’s just something very satisfying about holding an entire well written and designed daily publication in your hands and perusing it at your own pace. I for one will miss that experience if it disappears completely.

Maybe the George Jetson model is not so far off. Maybe a new model of delivery with a customized Robert Raines content is the answer. Not some diluted and random mix of travel, sports, weather etc. that I pick from a pre-selected list of options, but a truly personalized publication that my chosen “newspaper” pushes to me based on my interests. Maybe it will come to me on some yet unimagined device (Kindle, anyone?), maybe it will still be on some type of paper, or a digital screen; maybe it will float in the air before me. Perhaps it will even spew out at the touch of a button, next to the one for “crushed ice” on my fridge…

I have a large collection of yellowing newspapers in my closet – “NIXON RESIGNS”, “THE SHUTTLE EXPLODES”, 9/11, “OBAMA!!!!!” etc. They go back decades. I think I’ll go take them out and handle them for a while. Maybe I’ll have an epiphany.

Gauguin, “Noa Noa”, and the art bolg
April 30th, 2009

Upon arrival in Papeete Tahiti in June 1891, the artist Paul Gauguin began a modest diary. His original intention was simply to record a personal memento of his impressions and experiences while on the tropical paradise. Soon the diary grew into a commentary on the process and meaning of his art – a manifesto of the primitive vs. the bourgeois, and an opportunity to promote himself and his work back in Europe.

Gauguin expanded the diary, added artwork and ultimately published it himself, entitling it “Noa Noa”. The work includes watercolors, drawings, photographs, woodcuts, calligraphy and the artist’s informal musings on art and life. Essentially a very forward-looking, 19th century multimedia happening. The final piece was beautifully produced, bound in linen and painstakingly art directed by Gauguin, setting a precedent for artists that followed including Braque and Chagall who later created their own personal “art diaries”.

Thus, it might be argued was born the first blog.

Now, just by going to one source I can find links to over three thousand blogs dedicated to artists and their work:
http://www.blogcatalog.com/directory/art/artists/
Of course this is just one list of artist bolgs. There are countless more to be found with a quick search. But who has time to look at all of these blogs? How did the artists find the time away from their craft to create all of these blog pages? Or are the blog pages now their craft?

Maybe I’m showing my age, but it feels like we are losing something with such total focus on the digital. There’s something about a tangible piece like “Noa Noa” that I can hold in my hands that attracts me. The very blog I’m now writing is by definition temporary, fleeting and without tactile warmth. Is anyone besides me sick of staring at a computer monitor all day?

I’m feeling like running of to a tropical island and setting up house in a thatch hut on the beach. No blog. No internet. No computer. No electricity. No iPhone. No TV. No satellite radio. No microwave.

That sounds rather radical doesn’t it?

Is graphic design a craft or is it art?
July 10th, 2009

The distinction between “art” and “craft” is a huge topic – and has been endlessly argued – but I’m thinking in particular about graphic design here, and more specifically, commercial graphic design: Is the work that designers, illustrators, photographers, and art directors create for Web and print craft, or is it art?

I’ve worked in many art departments, and with dozens of talented graphic designers. In my experience, some designers can cross over into a mindset where they begin to look upon their work as art – not as craft-work in support of a story or promotion. This leads to friction (to put it mildly) between the designer and the editor and/or marketing person when modifications are requested. The designer has created something personal and is reluctant or unwilling to modify it to fit an outside requirement. I’ve witnessed this scenario time and again, and to be honest, have found myself in the position of “protecting” my design from outside input, even when somewhere down inside I recognize that it has strayed from the task at hand – to support the story or promotion.

It’s easy to get into such a bind when we have worked so hard to develop our craft and hone our skills; of course we take pride in our work. Designers tend to be passionate; we strive for originality and, once in a while, create something that we recognize as quite special. It can be a very difficult thing to alter that new creation for what may appear to be the whim of another member of the editorial or marketing team. But that willingness to bend is key to a successful final product, and in my opinion that’s just what a story presentation or promotion is: a product. Once we add elements such as advertising and issues of brand, the work becomes part of a larger picture and must be compromised – at least as far as defining it as art is concerned.

Art cannot exist without craft, but craft can exist without necessarily being art. My personal rule of thumb is to remind myself that my graphic design work is just a part of an overall presentation picture. It is an element of support – not a personal artistic statement in and of itself. I have my artistic outlets outside of commercial graphic design, and I try to keep them free of any consideration save my personal expression. That for me is the defining difference between art and craft. If I have to make changes to my work for any other reason than my personal taste, it ceases to be art.

That said, there is much craft that is artistic. Whether an arrangement of existing music or an interpretation of a story into a brilliant illustration – art can burst from the work of a great crafts-person. It’s a wonderful feeling to create an artful design that supports its function. But as long as I remind myself that my commercial design is being created for a purpose other than self-expression, I am less pained by making revisions in order to more closely support the goal of the project as a whole. This outlook has allowed me to experience many successful collaborations with editors and marketers. Everyone is happy, the goal is met, and the craft has succeeded in its task.

Many archeologists tell us that cave paintings were most likely created with a purpose other than personal expression – either to commemorate a successful hunt or perhaps to decorate a shaman’s lair. If that’s true, I don’t see any difference from this and the craft of commercial design. It’s likely that the shaman requested changes – “move this here, change that color”, and that the artist had to deal with feelings of frustration. Yet many of these paintings are undeniably beautiful works of art. The cave artist got the job done in an artful way.

So – it’s demonstrated to us that it’s possible to create artful craft, and perhaps it’s important to always strive for that goal. But as commercial artists, I believe that it is key to take pride in being an excellent crafts-person, and at the same time be willing to modify our work to support the presentation. Perhaps even more important, we should have a separate and private world for our personal art, a place where changes are made only to satisfy our personal expression. This is, after all, why we became artists in the first place – and without this core fire to weld craft with art, craft is only product.