Photo by: cocoro no akari

I spend a lot of time looking at things. No really, A LOT OF TIME. It makes sense, seeing as I’m a designer by profession. Aside from the obvious, inspiration, I find looking at things is meditative (or maybe it’s the seduction of drone, for me). In any case, it’s something I thoroughly enjoy. So I thought I’d share with you, a few of the places that have been calling my droning gaze.

This time, I’ll share with you some of the great things I’ve been looking at, in the world of print design and packaging design.

Noteboek from Evelien Lohbeck on Vimeo.

Preparing for a “redesign,” is a discussion topic we feel is long overdue. It’s something we deal with every day at Object Adjective and it’s something we grapple with when consulting clients all the time.

In this, the first of a two part series on brand evolution, I walk through a hypothetical and provide some basic, helpful check points to get you through a successful website redesign.

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Content, moreover getting content, is a constant struggle of the web designer. I think you would be hard pressed to find a designer who would say otherwise. However, getting content isn’t enough. It should be good content, well written, well thought out and friendly to its platform.

Over the years, I’ve learned to take greater liberties in copy writing, along side my web designing. It is not an area I particularly want to get into, but I see it as necessarily married to design itself. I make no claim to be expert in the art of writing, but I have some experience and think I can find my way around.

The inclination to become more liberal in my offerings of copywriting, as part of the design process, stemmed from the idea that words, like design, follow a cadence. The thinking is that these inflections should work in tandem together (i.e. Harmony Good. Dissonance Bad.).

In practice, I don’t sell myself as a copywriter, but rather introduce copywriting into my design. There has been a long standing discussion amongst designers, around the use of Loren Ipsum filler, in place of actual content, during the design phase. The school of thinking behind this, is the minimization of distraction in the design review process. Of course, the notion of inaugurating meaningless text into design, as filler, is problematic. For one, written text ushers in the notion of meaning, whether meaningless or meaningful. In the same sense, design ushers in the same notion, even more so when the design is for interactive websites.

So over the years, I’ve been in the practice of reclaiming this part of design, in the form of the written word. The tempo, language and, for lack of a better word, mood of the written content of a website, has a much to do with design and user experience, as does the subtle gradient or drop shadow used to offset a focal point on a page.

There is a lot of writing on the web at present, skirting around this topic, one way or another, but I haven’t seen anyone take this particular stance. Personally, I think the web would benefit greatly, if more designers would don the attire of the copywriter (at least a visor, now and then).

It is the pride and honor of every designer to have the opportunity to work on something that is truly profound. Such opportunities, like designing the Jüdisches Museum, Berlin or the Tube Map for London’s Underground, seldom grace the life of a designer. But, the opportunity to design a country, is one that almost never happens.

That is, until Dutch designer Daniel van der Velden was commissioned in 2003, to design money, passports and stamps for the abandoned water fortress off the British coast, proclaimed to be the independent micro-nation of The Principality of Sealand.

As disputed and controversial as this nation status may be, the project to conceive Sealand’s visual identity was not without complexity. Part and parcel to ‘The Sealand Identity Project’ and the uniqueness of this man-made, self-proclaimed nation, was the internet, as global archive.

In a press release in 2003, Van der Velden is quoted as saying:

The consequences of the internet’s daily usage, its universal vastness and its potential to blur the boundaries between the ‘real’ and the ‘fictional’, will be key operators in the design methods employed.nettimes.org

a little history

Before we get into the complexities in designing for this particular identity project, let me give you a little history about the “country.”

During WWII, the United Kingdom decided to establish a number of military bases along the borders of the English territorial waters, to defend against German air raids. They were home to 150-300 personnel, plenty of radar gizmos and a healthy cache of anti-aircraft cannons.

After the war ended, the troops were pulled out and these water fortresses were dismantled. That is, all except for the royal fortress Roughs Tower, which was situated in international waters, of the North Sea.

In 1966, Paddy Roy Bates, a former English major, moved onto the water fortress to establish a pirate radio station. Later that year, formally 1967, Bates proclaimed the base his own state and took the title of Prince. In 1968, following defensive action taken by Sealand, towards approaching British vessels, the British courts found they could not exert any jurisdiction over Roy of Sealand, since it was outside of British national territory, and thus, provided the first formal recognition of the Principality of Sealand.

on Branding a Country

Getting back to the point, the task of branding a country is a rewarding challenge few of us designers could ever hope for. Developing the identity for the Principality of Sealand, with all of it’s absurdities is compelling on an entirely separate level. Though the proclamation of nation status, is no doubt a serious one for Prince Roy of Sealand, I have a hard time regarding this at face value. The nature of this particular nation, seems to make it more akin to great works of conceptual art, than other nations. In this way, the objectives for developing an identity, seem entirely unique.

Lets first take a look at the Principality of Sealand crest.

This is, undoubtedly, an integral part of the overall branding and identity package.

It is the nation-state equivalent to the corporate logo. The historical, seafaring influence in the Sealand crest is apparent. The serpent-lion creatures, flanking the traditional, coat of arms shield, have been long standing symbols of sea vessels. The armor helmet, fisted arrows and Latin slogan, are also common features in this sort of identity.

What sets this crest apart from others, is not it’s subject matter, but in fact the manner in which it has been rendered. Unlike the formal stuffiness or fear inducing qualities we have come to expect from a code of arms, the Sealand crest makes strides in the opposite direction.

In fact, I would go as far as to say, I would be much more likely to expect this guy (pictured left), an illustration for a childrens’ coloring book, to be on the page adjacent to the Sealand crest, than an official document of any kind.

The distinct coloring book quality of the crest, creates an atmosphere that makes a person want to giggle (and maybe even request an official Lord or Lady title, with the Principality of Sealand).

All in all, it kind of makes you feel warm and fuzzy

I couldn’t help but immediately think of Ze Frank’s Red Alert piece, about designing for Homeland Security.

In this same very spirit, Van der Velden has managed to encapsulate the vibrancy and friendly (aside from the occassional anti-aircraft blast) spirit of Sealand. His cynically happy interpretation extended from the national crest, to the official postage stamps and into every facet of Sealander life.

How can you not be a fan. Fine work Mr. Van der Velden. Very fine work. It makes me want to be a citizen. In 2007 Sealand went up for sale. Too bad I missed the boat (or country, as the case may be). This would have been a fine piece to add to the collection.

It’s a lazy Saturday morning. I woke up, brewed some coffee (helping myself to some more right now), sat down at my computer and started browsing through my RSS feeds. That’s when I came across an article by Adrian Shaughnessy, on Design Observer, Look and Feel / Nip and Tuck.

It’s kind of a silly thing to write a follow up on, at least at first glance. I set out for a languid read and then found myself involved. So the question, to unjustly reduce the article to a sound bite is this.

Today, the term ["Look and Feel"] has seeped into everyday usage, and it has become widely used by commissioners of graphic design. Why?

The speculation goes on to consider its’ increase use, on the importance of usability in modern design, to referencing overall branding within design. Needless to say, “look and feel”, as a term to describe anything, is vague at best (unless of course you are talking about a car, and even then, it begs for articulation).

In scanning through some of the responses to Brian’s article, one jumped out at me with a poignant questions:
Are we trying to keep this shit a secret?

Agent Look and Feel

That’s precisely it! “Look and feel” is a secret, or at least what it is used to articulate by the layman. It is an attempt to sum up and communicate with, as some might see it, a very esoteric service, design.

The term befouls the integrity of design, for sure, but should it offend? I don’t think so. “Look and feel,” as well as the use of “design” as referenced in the article, are both expressions of flattery, if you think about it. They are, as well as other phrases like “presence”, “mood” and “energy”, illustrations of admiration, from people seemingly outside the esoteric circle. For lack of words (and possibly understanding), the terms are honest attempts to capture what it is we do as designers, without devaluing or diminishing. Are they over used? Are the appropriations unnerving? Absolutely.

To approach it from a different angle, how would you describe a design, or what you hope to accomplish through design? I’ve been through my share of critiques and “look and feel” is not by any means the most horrific way of description. I am, however, disturbed when I hear designers adopting these vague terms and using them in practice.

One of the most important things you learn as a designer, is that communication is the key to success. If you can’t articulate, both what the client is asking for and what you hope to accomplish, you will find yourself in a horrible tornado of terms, like “look and feel.”

My advice when talking about design, is to be as specific as possible. If a client asks for a modern or edgy “look and feel”, ask them about color, ask them about space, or better yet, tell them what you would recommend and why, given your knowledge of the requirements.

Perhaps if we, as designers, become better articulators of design, we can educate the masses. I don’t think we will ever rid the world of boiled down, esoteric terms, like “look and feel”, but we can learn how to respond to them.

“Look and feel” is esoteric. It leaves mystery. It is meaningless, but also flattering.

The search for new sans-serif fonts is always a chore for me. Finding a sans-serif font, that has the right balance and play in its characters and does not assign meaning or dominate the stage, is perhaps the great challenge of the graphic designer. This is why, time and time again, I return to Helvetica.

That said, I thought I’d share three new fonts I acquired, that definitely show some promise and got me excited (and they are all free, which is a bonus).

AUdimat

AUdimat is clean and centered, with a crispness that is neither too sharp nor too boxy for practical use. Characters are well thought out and relate to each other nicely. The intriguing cuts and rises, make for a unique experience. AUdimat works best at larger sizes.

Blue Highway

Don’t let the name fool you. I wasn’t initially very drawn to Blue Highway, but after playing with it for a while I grew quite attached. Set in all CAPS, it reads much like, well, a highway sign. But set in lower or proper case, and you instantly find something refreshing in the descenders, how they are interrupted or cut short.

Reznor

Reznor caught my eye from the beginning for it’s unusual use of reverse letter “n” in the upper case. Inspired by Nine Inch Nails, this could easily have been just as bad, but it’s not. It’s really just Arial, with a few refinements. One such refinement is the elimination of upper case letters, which for me, solves 70% of the problems I have with Arial. The rest seem to be addressed with much better form and understanding of balance. It’s everything Arial should have been, as an alternative to Helvetica. (did I mention I hate Arial?)

All in all, not such a bad start to a day. What gets your goat? What floats your boat?

On Friday night I attempted step outside of the world of digital media and information superhighways and attended the The Edwardian World’s Faire, here in San Francisco.

The Edwardian period fascinates me for the fashion and adventure our modern lives seem so miserably to lack. The outing we planned, was intended as a brief departure into this world, and to my surprise it was very nearly approaching successful. I left behind all traces of my contemporary life, barring my iPhone and six one dollar notes, all minted in the last 3 years.

My inability to part with my iPhone, for a night in the early 1900s, is excusable by my standards, but my reasons and the resulting outcome turned out to be quite contrary. There are a dozen or more reasons why I love my iPhone, but the camera was never among them. It is fine, in all practical senses, but I have never purchased a phone for it’s camera. And I’ve never considered a mobile phone camera to truly manifest any of the prerequisite qualities of an actual camera. The evenings excursion, however, proved the iPhone camera otherwise.

recording visual images

I’ve always been a sucker for cameras. For me, nothing feels better than a fully manual, traditional camera. I like to feel the mechanics of a good camera in my hands. Digital cameras have always felt a bit foreign to me, but for the convenience, they are winning.

For the first time, the poor, grainy quality of a mobile phone camera became an asset at the Edwardian Ball and I ended up capturing some of the most compelling, apropos images of the event. The photos below, as well as the one I used in the title image for this post, were all taken with my iPhone 2 mega pixel camera. They have not been manipulated in any way.

Kinetic Steam Works installation

Kinetic Steam Works crew, manning the boiler

I was completely impressed, though I will admit, the subject at hand, made the exception. You can view more of my photos on Flickr. You can also see a collective posted in the Flickr group, Edwardian Ball.

Despite my enthusiasm for my iPhone photos, my chap August managed to capture the winner this evening, with something a device slightly more confident than 2 mega pixels. To top it off, it’s a picture of me.

Outside the Edwardian Ball

Every so often you come across something that conveys a point so well, you have to stop what you are doing and take note. So when we received this months WIRED and supplemental Geekipedia, I was very excited.

So what’s wrong with this picture?

I wouldn’t say one way or the other, if this was poor editing on the part of the WIRED editors or clever designing on the part of the designer. Maybe just a case in point, for me to exploit.

The imagery is very striking. It effectively communicates what the title declares. But wait, something is not quite right. Sloppy Photoshopping?

Offsetting as that might be, that wasn’t it. After all, we’re not looking for perfection, only the conveying of a concept. Then it hit me. That’s not an encyclopedia!

Why use a dictionary instead of an encyclopedia? Laziness? There happened to be one right there, next to the digital camera? I highly doubt it. The reason is obvious to a visual communicator. An encyclopedia has no distinguishable markings when it’s open, as a dictionary does with the in-cut tabs. Sure a plain book with no markings, you see the title, you get it. But with the dictionary, you see the image and make that association without even realizing you’ve taken the title of the magazine in.

This is a great example of effective communication that isn’t altogether, technically correct. The difference between the designer and the editor, perhaps.