Paul Rand
Paul Rand was one of the foremost American graphic designers of the 20th century and helped establish the so-called Swiss Style of design in the United States. Trained in the 1930s at Pratt Institute, Parsons School of Design, and the Art Students League, he went on to become an educator himself at Cooper Union, Pratt, and later at Yale University, where he taught graphic design in the graduate program from 1956 to 1969. He returned to Yale in 1974.
Rand was a versatile designer whose career can be divided into three periods. From 1937–1941, he worked in media promotion and book design; from 1941–1954, he focused more on advertising design; and from 1954 on, he began to concentrate on corporate identity programs, producing some of the most iconic logos and identity marks of the modern age including logos for IBM, Westinghouse, UPS, and ABC television.
Rand was a versatile designer whose career can be divided into three periods. From 1937–1941, he worked in media promotion and book design; from 1941–1954, he focused more on advertising design; and from 1954 on, he began to concentrate on corporate identity programs, producing some of the most iconic logos and identity marks of the modern age including logos for IBM, Westinghouse, UPS, and ABC television.
Posters
The essence of the “art of the poster” is not a matter of literal content nor technique but one of creating visual ideas appropriate to the medium. Countless so-called posters are not in fact posters at all- they are merely enlarged illustrations which ignore the fundamental functional considerations of size, distant viewing, and speed of the viewer which should be the determinant of poster design. By demanding that the poster be simple, bold, and striking these factors distinguish the poster unequivocally from the illustration which, like a miniature or easel painting, is intended for close and leisurely inspection and can therefore be complex and subtle. Unfortunately where it has been recognised that a poster must be immediately and potently attractive this has been widely interpreted to mean a blow up of a “pretty girl” or the rendering of a fantastically elongated motor car. It has been forgotten that color and design are the basic elements of attraction in the same sense that flags, pennants, flowers, bright fabrics, and heraldic devices are the age old means of dramatisation and advertisement. Clearly the appeal of these purely plastic elements cannot be calculated by surveys, polls, and pulse takers; therefore in this age of reverence for statistics it is apt to be ignored or lightly dismissed. Hence, the poster becomes formalised into the above mentioned pretty girl plus product or oversized product plus label. Consequently to see one poster is to see all, and the prime and crucial factor in poster design is flouted - i.e. sensory appeal.
A poster must attract as quickly and boldly as a banner and excite sensations of pleasure and interest in the observer. This the standardised poster cannot do but it can and does succeed in boring the observer with its triteness and vacuous design. A good poster is, however, only half the battle for the best poster if badly displayed cannot only be revitalised but can actually become a visual irritation if it interrupts architectural forms or obtrudes rudely into the landscape. It is unnecessary to remind the reader of the ravages done to city and countryside by the wanton plastering of posters on every available space. But apparently it is necessary to remind the advertiser who defeats his own purpose by rendering his advertising obnoxious rather than pleasurable.
A poster must attract as quickly and boldly as a banner and excite sensations of pleasure and interest in the observer. This the standardised poster cannot do but it can and does succeed in boring the observer with its triteness and vacuous design. A good poster is, however, only half the battle for the best poster if badly displayed cannot only be revitalised but can actually become a visual irritation if it interrupts architectural forms or obtrudes rudely into the landscape. It is unnecessary to remind the reader of the ravages done to city and countryside by the wanton plastering of posters on every available space. But apparently it is necessary to remind the advertiser who defeats his own purpose by rendering his advertising obnoxious rather than pleasurable.
The Art of the Package
Technical advance in the field of packaging has been impressive indeed: the one-piece “flip-top,” the push-button container, the shining array of new plastics with ingenious closures, the cleverly contrived shapes that stack, fit refrigerators or pockets, collapse, expand, etc. But does all this make a package? No! There is more to a package than convenience; it has to be looked at. How many flip-top cigarette packs or regular cigarette packs, for that matter, afford any pleasure to the eye? How consistently are we blinded by the dazzling display of vulgarity eagerly provided by most push-button cans, cereal boxes, soaps, bread wrappers, etc? Many, admittedly, are cleverly packaged. Technologically, scientifically and hygienically, packages of today are practical, but are they beautiful?
Functionalism does not preclude beauty, but it does not guarantee it either.
In a recent exhibition of packaging at the Museum of Modern Art, a bottle of Odol mouthwash was prominently displayed, but it could only be identified by those familiar with its unusual shape since the label, ironically, was removed. This; I imagine, was because the bottle looked better without it. The actual label is far from attractive, yet one can conceive of a label design which would not only serve its prime function-product identification but which would enhance the already beautiful form by enriching or emphasizing its shape.
Functionalism does not preclude beauty, but it does not guarantee it either.
In a recent exhibition of packaging at the Museum of Modern Art, a bottle of Odol mouthwash was prominently displayed, but it could only be identified by those familiar with its unusual shape since the label, ironically, was removed. This; I imagine, was because the bottle looked better without it. The actual label is far from attractive, yet one can conceive of a label design which would not only serve its prime function-product identification but which would enhance the already beautiful form by enriching or emphasizing its shape.
Logos, Flags and Escutcheons
There are as many reasons for designing a new logo, or updating an old one, as there are opinions. The belief that a new or updated design will be some kind charm that will magically transform any business, is not uncommon. A redesigned logo may have the advantage of implying something new, something improved-but this is short-lived if a company doesn’t live up to its claim. Sometimes a logo is redesigned because it really needs redesigning-because it’s ugly, old fashioned, or inappropriate. But many times, it is merely to feed someone’s ego, to satisfy a CEO who doesn’t wish to be linked with the past, or often because it’s the thing to do.
A logo appears in many guises: a signature is a kind of logo, so is a flag. The French flag, for example, or the flag of Saudi Arabia, are aesthetically pleasing symbols. One happens to be pure geometry, the other a combination of Arabic script, together with an elegant saber-two diametrically opposed visual concepts; yet both function effectively. Their appeal, however, is more than a matter of aesthetics. In battle, a flag can be a friend or foe. The ugliest flag is beautiful if it happens to be on your side. “Beauty,” they say, “is in the eye of the beholder,” in peace or in war, in flags or in logos. We all believe our flag the most beautiful; this tells us something about logos.
The role of the logo is to point, to designate-in as simple a manner as possible. A design that is complex, like a fussy illustration or an arcane abstraction, harbors a self-destruct mechanism. Simple ideas, as well as simple designs are, ironically, the products of circuitous mental purposes. Simplicity is difficult to achieve, yet worth the effort.
The Mercedes symbol, for example, has nothing to do with automobiles; yet it is a great symbol, not because its design is great, but because it stands for a great product. The same can be said about apples and computers. Few people realize that a bat is the symbol of authenticity for Bacardi Rum; yet Bacardi is still being imbibed. Lacoste sportswear, for example, has nothing to do with alligators (or crocodiles), and yet the little green reptile is a memorable and profitable symbol. What makes the Rolls Royce emblem so distinguished is not its design (which is commonplace), but the quality of the automobile for which it stands. Similarly, the signature of George Washington is distinguished not only for its calligraphy, but because George Washington was Washington. Who cares how badly the signature is scribbled on a check, if the check doesn’t bounce? Likes or dislikes should play no part in the problem of identification; nor should they have anything to do with approval or disapproval. Utopia!
All this seems to imply that good design is superfluous. Design, good or bad, is a vehicle of memory. Good design adds value of some kind and, incidentally, could be sheer pleasure; it respects the viewer-his sensibilities-and rewards the entrepreneur. It is easier to remember a well designed image than one that is muddled. A well design logo, in the end, is a reflection of the business it symbolizes. It connotes a thoughtful and purposeful enterprise, and mirrors the quality of its products and services. It is good public relations-a harbinger of good will.
A logo appears in many guises: a signature is a kind of logo, so is a flag. The French flag, for example, or the flag of Saudi Arabia, are aesthetically pleasing symbols. One happens to be pure geometry, the other a combination of Arabic script, together with an elegant saber-two diametrically opposed visual concepts; yet both function effectively. Their appeal, however, is more than a matter of aesthetics. In battle, a flag can be a friend or foe. The ugliest flag is beautiful if it happens to be on your side. “Beauty,” they say, “is in the eye of the beholder,” in peace or in war, in flags or in logos. We all believe our flag the most beautiful; this tells us something about logos.
The role of the logo is to point, to designate-in as simple a manner as possible. A design that is complex, like a fussy illustration or an arcane abstraction, harbors a self-destruct mechanism. Simple ideas, as well as simple designs are, ironically, the products of circuitous mental purposes. Simplicity is difficult to achieve, yet worth the effort.
The Mercedes symbol, for example, has nothing to do with automobiles; yet it is a great symbol, not because its design is great, but because it stands for a great product. The same can be said about apples and computers. Few people realize that a bat is the symbol of authenticity for Bacardi Rum; yet Bacardi is still being imbibed. Lacoste sportswear, for example, has nothing to do with alligators (or crocodiles), and yet the little green reptile is a memorable and profitable symbol. What makes the Rolls Royce emblem so distinguished is not its design (which is commonplace), but the quality of the automobile for which it stands. Similarly, the signature of George Washington is distinguished not only for its calligraphy, but because George Washington was Washington. Who cares how badly the signature is scribbled on a check, if the check doesn’t bounce? Likes or dislikes should play no part in the problem of identification; nor should they have anything to do with approval or disapproval. Utopia!
All this seems to imply that good design is superfluous. Design, good or bad, is a vehicle of memory. Good design adds value of some kind and, incidentally, could be sheer pleasure; it respects the viewer-his sensibilities-and rewards the entrepreneur. It is easier to remember a well designed image than one that is muddled. A well design logo, in the end, is a reflection of the business it symbolizes. It connotes a thoughtful and purposeful enterprise, and mirrors the quality of its products and services. It is good public relations-a harbinger of good will.