15 October 2010

Design as a Conversation

Design is most definitely a conversation because language in itself is a kind of design. According to Kostas Terzidis's article, "The Etymology of Design: Pre-Socratic Perspective," the word "design" hails from the Latin word "signare," which means "to mark” or “to sign." In this way, a design is one's sign or symbol, a mark that represents that individual.

In his book, Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud touched upon the history of our modern alphabet. It began as pictures to represent various objects and actions, but later it became increasingly simplified to the point where, today, letters are used to signify particular sounds for our understanding.We give names to things like dogs, canine, cats, and feline. But, labels are relative, and each word has its own subtle connotations. In English, we automatically associate felines with being more feminine and canines with being more masculine.



In the image above, titled Personnage marchant vers l’horizon (Character going towards the horizon), (1928-9), RenĂ© Magritte depicts a man standing in the middle of a group of blobs with labels on them reading “cloud,” “rifle,” “horizon,” “armchair,” and “horse.” The blobs do not at all resemble the actual subjects that they are supposed to represent. Here, Magritte is attempting to get a message across to his audience, he is trying to start a conversation with his viewers.

From what I can ascertain, the man standing in the middle is mankind; he is at the center of attention, and he is in control of the things around him. The blobs with the labels represent how mankind is the one who gives names to the objects around him. If it weren’t for the labels, the blobs are nothing, they mean nothing. But mankind is the one who imparts significance to these objects.

To analyze this painting further, notice that the man is wearing a top hat and a long coat, representing a western sort of fashion. Here, the meanings of the blobs are French, but what about in other languages? I’m sure that each language and each culture has its own subtle and distinct connotations for each word, as well. For instance, in English, the words "home" and "house" may at first thought seem to be similar, but they are actually very different ideas. A "home" is a place where a person feels most at ease, but a "house" is simply a structure where people live. In English, a "house" is not necessarily a "home," though they sound similar. In Spanish, the words for "house" ("casa") and "home" ("hogar") are distinctly unique and there is a very clear definition between them, which can represent, perhaps, how in Latin cultures that people do not automatically mush together the meanings of house and home, unlike in America.

I think these same ideas can apply to design. Designs viewed across countries and cultures can mean different things to different people because we all have had different experiences that leave different impressions upon us. I remember one day, some years ago, reading up about Takashi Murakami and looking at pictures of his artwork. I was especially taken by his paintings of mushrooms because I like mushrooms and I like to eat mushrooms, and I had never seen mushrooms painted the way he had painted them (with eyes and various, bright clashing colors) To me, it was just a completely new thing, which I thought was fascinating and cute, in a way. However, I watched some video interviews with Murakami and he had explained that to him, the mushrooms represented the giant mushroom clouds of the atom bombs dropped on Japan during WWII. I was surprised. I hadn't even thought of that, while that might have been the first thing on the minds of many people in Japan! I realized then that perspective plays a huge role in design.

Supernova (1999), Murakami

Posi Mushrooms (2002), Murakami

Photo Credit:
Words in Images
Collector's Quest, The Takashi Murakami Exhibit in Brooklyn
Helium Foundation

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