This is Derek Birdsall...
If you don't know of him then you are not a graphic designer.
I interviewed him in July 2002 for my ‘Heroes’ series, originally commissioned by Design Week. Here it is...
Most of
my visits to the designers featured in this series have been at their homes and
this was no exception. The only difference is that Derek Birdsall lives in not
one but two houses that sit side by side, set back from the bustle and fashionable
eateries of Islington’s Upper Street.
Derek Birdsall
is a larger than life, white bearded, grizzly bear-like figure, with a gruff,
tobacco–laden voice still retaining its Yorkshire accent. Until a few years ago
he also owned a converted factory, located at the end of his garden. This is
where his long established company, Omnific Design, had been based. But he
decided to ‘downsize’ as they say, and now combines home and studio. Here he
works in a myriad of offices that span the basement area of his two houses. It
was in his ‘thinking area’ that we started our conversation about his long and
eventful career, a conversation often punctuated by the sight of Birdsall’s dexterous
fingers rolling up a neat cigarette.
For more years than he cares to
remember, Birdsall has remained faithful to no more than a
dozen typefaces: Bell, Bodoni and Eric Gill's Sans, Joanna and Modern among
them. He has experimented with more contemporary faces, he says, but finds them
usually flawed, so sticks with the old workhorses, all of which have strong
personalities.
Indeed, Birdsall selected Gill Sans, with its 'wonderful
italic', for his much-revered redesign of the Church of England's Common
Worship prayer book in 2000...
Church of England's Common Worship prayer book 2000
He felt so strongly about the typeface that he has
said he would not have done the job if the client hadn't accepted it. It is
perfect for small books with relatively little text per page, like a prayer
book, he says.
Birdsall is currently writing a book, with the working title
of The Intelligent Book, which features a utilitarian typewriter face for the
text, Schreibmaschinensch. In it, he describes how he selects a typeface.
'It need not be an arbitrary decision,' he says. 'The suitability of a
typeface to the subject of the book is less important than to the nature of its
text. Text that contains dates, dimensions, formulae or footnotes needs a face
with good numerals, fractions and mathematical sorts. Here, a type with
numerals smaller than the capitals, such as Bell and Joanna, works well.'
Quotations,
he continues, especially of poetry and titles of publications, suit a face with
a distinguished italic. And sans serif faces, he says, can often be more
legible than readable -- not tautology, if you think about it.
Despite this
astonishing attention to detail, Birdsall's work is disarmingly simple. Like
great screen actors, it is what is left out that makes the performance
compelling. He is not a showy designer interested in trends. His passion lies
in the details: the typeface, naturally and, with books, the feel of the paper;
the quality of the binding; the cut of the font; the evenness of line endings;
the perfect balance of image to space.
These are the things that elevate his
work to the ranks of typography. These and an incredibly inventive mind
responsible for producing a consistently high standard of work for over 40
years: he designed the first Pirelli calendar in 1964...
Town magazine 1964 The first Pirelli calendar 1968
as well as book jackets
for Penguin and Monty Python, and art-directed magazines including Town, Nova
and The Independent's colour magazine.
Birdsall's own view of his work is
very pragmatic. 'As designers we are here to please the client,' he says. He
doesn't believe in forcing things down their throats. What he does do is weigh
up all the possible questions and objections that a client might voice and have
his answers ready.
Birdsall was born in Nottingly near Pontefract in
Yorkshire in 1934, one of three sons. Bright and with a keen interest in chess
and drawing, he passed the eleven-plus and settled into grammar school life. It
was here his appetite for art and calligraphy developed and he soon became
impatient to get the experience of an art school. But his headmaster was keen
for him to stay put and complete his exams.
Eventually he secured a place at
Selby Art School. This led on to Wakefield College of Art and later, in 1952,
to the Central School of Arts and Crafts (which merged with Central St Martin's
School of Art and Design in 1989).
It was here he began to develop his skills
as a typographer and book designer and was hugely influenced by the typographer
Anthony Froshaug.
But life at Central did not go particularly well and
Birdsall failed his diploma. His time there had only delayed the inevitable
fate that befell every young man in the 1950s - National Service. In 1955 he
packed his wife and his young son back off to Yorkshire while he was posted to
Cyprus for his two-year stint in the army. He was assigned to the army
printing unit. To his dismay, on arrival he discovered the unit was now bereft
of equipment due to the Suez crisis. He was concerned that he might be drafted
off to something more physically taxing, but his commanding officer asked him
if he was capable of drawing up plans. Despite having never done this, Birdsall
said yes, he could.
He spent the best part of his service armed with nothing
more than mapping pens, Indian ink and tracing paper, producing detailed
drawings for three army depots and, in the process, learning an awful lot.
In
1957, back in civvy street and reunited with his wife and son, he set about
finding work. He turned down a job as a typographer at Crawfords Advertising
and opted instead for a more flexible arrangement at printer Balding and
Mansall. John Commander was the managing director there, and on seeing Birdsall's
portfolio, immediately offered him a part-time job.
This appealed because it
would give him an opportunity to build up further freelance work on his days
off. This proved successful and he quickly had a fairly regular flow of work
from various sources.
Around this time he started teaching one evening a week
at the London School of Printing. At first Birdsall was supposed to be
supported by an experienced tutor, but on his first evening, Tom Eckersley,
LSP's head of design informed Birdsall that he was on his own, due to the
illness of the regular lecturer.
Panicked by this, Birdsall stood nervously
in front of a very expectant class, racking his brains. Then he had a
time-stalling idea. Clearing his throat he asked, 'Does everyone have type
scales and layout pads?' There was a deathly silence. 'No? Well you'll find the
school shop just along the corridor.' The room emptied, giving him time to
reflect.
Birdsall supplemented his freelance work with more part-time
lecturing, this time at Maidstone College of Art, where he introduced a young
John McConnell to the mysteries of graphic design. A little later, Eckersley
suggested Birdsall apply for a three days a week lectureship at LSP. The
guarantee of regular money was enough to persuade him. He recalls the LSP
interview was like the Spanish inquisition, but the thing that impressed
Birdsall most was being offered a cigarette from an elegant gold case by the
very dapper creative legend Ashley Havinden.
Birdsall had prepared himself
well for the interview and at just the right moment produced his coup de grace,
a specially designed book of his work incorporating an intricate Japanese
binding. The interview panel was impressed. He got the job.
Birdsall was now
able to support his growing family. He was also networking with other
designers. It was with three of these, George Daulby, George Mayhew and Peter
Wildbur that he formed BDMW Associates in 1960. Commander offered them
accommodation in the attic of Balding and Mansall's offices.
BDMW was a loose
partnership with everyone having their own clients and sharing the expenses.
The collective name gave it a presence and its work quickly became noticed.
After two years Birdsall's freelance work had built up to such a level that he
gave up teaching at LSP. In 1962 he took over the ground floor of Balding and
Mansall, leaving his former colleagues in the attic. But out of this creative
community came the influential book, 17 Graphic Designers London, published by
Balding and Mansall in 1963 and designed by Birdsall.
It showcased a new
direction in British graphic design. Commander wrote the introduction to the
book and both he and the book became the catalyst for the formation of
D&AD. In 1964 Commander became the first President, and BDMW's George
Daulby designed the debut annual.
Birdsall's output was growing and he was
working for a range of prestigious clients. He was commissioned by Pirelli's
advertising manager Derek Forsyth to design its 1964 calendar. Fletcher, Forbes
and Gill had produced it the previous year, with photography by Terence
Donovan, in Hyde Park. Birdsall felt it should be shot somewhere more glamorous
and with photographer Robert Freeman he set off to Majorca, setting the pattern
for the increasingly lavish productions that were to follow.
In 1964 Birdsall
moved to Covent Garden and in 1967 joined forces with Forsyth, who had left
Pirelli to start a hybrid design consultancy that also handled advertising,
called Omnific.
Dennis Hackett, former editor of Nova magazine, often joined
them to write copy. Unfortunately for Birdsall the experience became a weight
around his neck. He felt himself being turned into a manager and missed the hands-on
involvement of the creative process.
After two years he and Forsyth parted
company. Fletcher and Forbes approached Birdsall with a view to him joining
them (Bob Gill had recently left the consultancy). Although flattered, and a
little tempted, Birdsall was determined to plough his own furrow.
He
continued working in Covent Garden under the Omnific banner, and Alan Kitching
joined the company, strengthening its typographical base.
Penguin Books Education series of covers 1971
In 1984 Birdsall
bought an old factory in lslington and converted it. This has been his creative
base until a few years ago.
There are too many of Birdsall's projects to list
here. But certain work stands out: the 1963 Pirelli windscreen de-icer
packaging...
Pirelli packaging 1964
the 1971 photographic series of covers for W Somerset Maugham...
Penguin Books 1970 four of 19 continuos sequenced covers photography by Harri Peccinotti
the
1970 promotional poster for photographer Hans Feurer with Birdsall's wittily
applied typographical moustache to a portrait of an astonished-looking girl
because she resembled Salvador Dali...
Mailer for photographer Hans Feurer 1969
And his 2000 typographical tour de force -
the Church of England's prayer book, Common Worship...
which demonstrates
Birdsall's ability to produce an eminently functional piece with great beauty.
Although Birdsall has scaled down his operation he shows no sign of stopping,
for it is clear that design is his life, fuelled by a passion for detail and a
desire to make things better. He still loves receiving a bulky manuscript and a
pile of photographs in their raw state, he says. For him the moment of creation
starts right there, looking at those disparate piles. My
evening ended in Birdsall’s large kitchen, Shirley had made onion quiche and,
as Birdsall points out, the best chips I would ever taste. And they were.
I emerged from the house into the hubbub of Islington’s nightlife,
saying my goodbyes as Birdsall took a last drag on his roll up, and gave me a
wave. Tomorrow
he’ll be back at his desk, putting a lot of energy and thought into another
creation that will end up with the effortless assurance that has become his
trademark. And no doubt he will watch a little cricket in between.
By Mike Dempsey © Centaur Publications 2002
P.S. Well,
we all now know that he did finish that book. He ended up calling it, Notes on book design ...
Derek's beautiful book available in any good bookstores
and it is now a
standard work. Just last week, while strolling down Exmouth Market, heading
back to my studio, I noticed the rear view of a familiar figure sitting quietly at a restaurant table. A glass of wine in one hand, a cigarette in the other. It
was Derek. ‘Sit down and join me for a glass of something’, he said. I did and we caught up on the half dozen
years or so that have passed since we had the interview. Too much to talk about
here. But he is still as passionate as ever about producing good work – mostly books of
course, which is where we came in. Good old Derek.
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