Graphic Journey Blog: Music/Illustration/Graphics

It was 1980. I was judging the graphics section at D&AD. Amongst the other members on the jury was George Hardie. We were thumbing through some stationery when we were distracted by rather a startling range. It was both by and for the Dutch consultancy Studio Dunbar and consisted of a bizarre collection of dots, dashes, boxes, graduated rules, grids and letter spaced san serif type - a sort of mélange of isms from the previous six decades...

Studio Dumbar's stationery created in 1979.

We both acknowledged that this piece of work was going to have an effect on the British graphic scene. Sure enough, those little graphic devices used on that stationery range started to weave their way into the fabric of our industry.

At the time mainstream British graphics was dominated by a classical approach to typography, with lashings of nostalgic pastiches thrown in. One of the key exponents of this genre was John Gorham, whose work was everywhere in the 70s…

More adventurous directions were happening in the music world absorbing the influences from the Constructivist and Bauhaus periods. This was evident in the sleeve designs of Barney Bubbles, George Hardie and Storm Thorgerson…

George Hardie's Souther Comfort album design from 1972.

The classic cover for The Dark Side of the Moon 1973 by Storm Thorgerson with George Hardie.

Generation X Day By Day album cover by Barney Bubbles 1977.

Barney Bubble's 1977 cover for The Dammed. Below his inspiration by Wassily Kandinsky from 1923

Above Joost Schmidt while at the Bauhaus 1924

They, in turn, were influencing a new breed of graphic designers that were incubating in the bustle of Manchester City during the late 70s – Ben Kelly, Malcolm Garrett and Peter Saville…

Malcolm Garrett's Buzzcocks cover of 1977

Above 3 creations by Peter Saville in 1981. Below the original source.

Above an advertisement by Paul Schuitema c. 1927

Meanwhile, Dunbar’s work became more challenging and highly decorative, evolving into eccentric three-dimensional cut-outs and exaggerated perspective. It was embraced open-armed by designers in Britain and a crazy fusion of classicism, modernist and Dutch design appearing at a rate of knots…

Above Studio Dumbar's 1984 cover for the Dutch Post Office Year Book.

Above two theatre posters by Studio Dunbar's in 1988 during their increasing eccentricity. They won a D&AD silver award that year.

Another Dunbar piece from 1991

And some examples of British design that followed Studio Dunbar's lead. Above pages from BA's annual report 1987

The Royal College of Art's yearly report from 1987.

Spreads from Seymour Powell's 1986 work brochure designed by Siobhan Keaney.

Vaughan Oliver's work for the Young Vic from 1994.

An album cover designed by Nick Bell in 1991.

This patchwork of borrowed styles and influences became increasingly popular around the world, especially on the American west coast.

Then in 1986, this appeared…

8vo (Octavo) the International Journal of Typography. It was the brainchild of Mark Holt, Simon Johnston and Hamish Muir. They planned 8 issues, hence the title. Their quest was to debate and reflect only modernist design principles. None of the idealised serif, symmetrical classical forms of typography for them. Just a series of grid systems and sans type to harness their world view of design and typography, which followed the more deconstructed, an almost Swiss punk feel created by one Wolfgang Weingart…

Above 3 examples of Wolfgang Weingart's hyped-up Swiss-style from the 1970s.

I remember at the time of the first publication of 8vo there was a general buzz about this new ‘serious’ journal. It read and looked like a technical specification manual - painfully small type and a myriad of footnotes and cross-references. It was quickly viewed as the clinical antidote to the decorative style excesses of the period. Over the next few years,’ it was 8vo’s influence that was to work its way into the studios and consultancies across town. Their take of modernism was now de rigueur.

Poster designed by Cartlidge Levene 1991 picks up on 8vo's mantra.

But over the span of the 8vo’s six-year life, the typography became increasingly problematic to read. I have to admit that I bought all the issues but I never read past the first few pages. Here are some examples of what I mean…

Interestingly the 8vo trio was very critical of what they termed, ‘over-stylized’ or ‘superficial design’ (like Neville Brody’s work for The Face) on BBC2’s The Late Show in 1990. They favoured ‘client, user and functionality’. But they too fell into the same trap. Take this for example…

8vo number 6 1988

Does it really ‘favour the user’ or just geeky designers high on all things typographic?

What links much of the above work is its intentional exclusion of the reader. There seems to come to a point where the designer disconnects with the reader in favour of a decorative playground. It is a highly seductive visual landscape, but alienates most people other than like-minded folk, rendering the notion of communication redundant.

A surprise item of the 90s was the above D&AD silver and gold award-winning magazine, designed by Paul Elliman and Peter Miles (who now works in the United States). This crude photocopied style, with echos of the Jamie Reid's punk era, spawned some imitators for a while.

Let’s look for a moment at the work of one of the key figures in the creation of modernist design, Jan Tschichold. His work was just as eccentric and startling as Dunbar’s, but some 50 years earlier. But Tschichold turned his back on his brainchild… in favour of this approach…

Why? Well, my own view is that he wanted to rid himself of the rigid dogma that he had in part created and that the classical form had spirituality and beauty that increasingly appealed to him in his later years, as well as during his years in Switzerland. His most important work is with Penguin books in the late 1940s…

A post by Ben Terrett recently struck me, over at his noisydecentgraphics blog. It was his (plus the mum and dad test) reaction to the work this man...

Wim Crouwel

and one of the many typefaces designed by him. This one is 1967.

– a man celebrated in an almost evangelical way by many young British designers - at recent London exhibition. This is what he said… ‘Crouwel is a very good designer but a lot of the work, in fact, all of the work, left me very cold. It felt like design for designers. If I took my mum and dad to the exhibition I don't think they would enjoy it. Whereas they would have loved the Alan Fletcher exhibition… Crouwel's work is too cold. Too inaccessible. It needs more warmth, it needs a way in. But there is no way in. I realise Crouwel's work is modernist and part of that is inaccessibility and a coldness (like it or not, that's how it presents). But this for me raises a bigger question about graphic design. Is there any point to it if it's inaccessible? If my mum and dad can't enjoy it, is it irrelevant? ". I think Terrett makes a very valid point.

The fact is designers get bored. The idea of sticking to one typographical discipline can become tedious. Younger designers always want to displace the status quo. It is in the natural order of things.

Design can only move forward by reassessing what has gone before – questioning, deconstructing, and experimenting has, and will always, happen. Out of that new approaches emerge.

Today designers in their early 40s are hanging on to their versions of borrowed modernism. Meanwhile, the 30 something designers have re-engaged with a more literary approach to design, using classical styles and techniques from the 40s and 50s.

Above just 2 examples by David Pearson who's work pursues a more traditional 'literary' design style.

The balance and elegance of Tschichold and Gorham’s work are back and perhaps with it, designers will once again have sympathy with the words that have been written and for the readers who really want to read them.

If you read this I would love to know. So please do leave a comment, even if it is just to say 'Yes'.

Mike

One of the first illustrators I became interested in - mainly due to the enthusiasm of my tutor at evening class back in the early 1960s – was David Stone Martin (1913 –1992).

David Stone Martin

His distinctive scratchy, blobby, inky line became synonymous with many jazz album covers of the 50’s and 60’s. Here is some of his work…

This lovely style, evocative of Ben Shan and Andy Warhol - when he was a commercial illustrator - influence many British artists in the late 50s like Peter Blake, Terrence Greer, Quentin Blake, John Sewell and many of the now forgotten illustrators commissioned by the Radio Times in the '60s.

But my appreciation of David Stone Martin was to become part of a wider appreciation of jazz album covers and the music itself. My older brother, Frank was a saxophonist and obsessed with modern jazz. This was the1950s and I, as a single-minded teenager, was only interested in the pop artists of the day – Elvis Presley, Little Richard, Conway Twitty, and The Drifters etc. But more often than not I would wake up to the complex musicality of Gerry Mulligan, Miles Davies, MJQ, Stan Getz, Sonny Rollins and a great many classical recordings also filtered their way to my room. It emanated from a Dansette record player in my brother’s bedroom…

Initially loathing this seemingly meaningless assault on my ears, it gradually took rote and permeated into my soul.

It became the catalyst to a far wider musical appreciation and curiosity than I would otherwise have had. I began to realise that being open to all things was the way to have a far more enriching life. This openness became my private mantra. Even though I find much of what is going on today difficult and frustrating I still hold on to that openness and sense of curiosity that started back in the 50s.

Anyway enough about me. Here are some of the jazz, classical and other album covers of the pure graphic variety that I much appreciated when they were still a big blowsy 12 inches square. Many by the considerable talent on Rudolph de Harak (1924 –2002)