We Are What We Say We Are. Maybe.
The other day I had an interesting conversation about design with someone. He will remain nameless, not to create intrigue but to focus on the conversation rather than the man. He is what I would consider a successful Entrepreneur; owns a business doing something he believes in and loves, which hasn’t folded over and appears to be growing. His advice to me, when I’m finally done with Design school, is to specialize. To focus on something that I enjoy doing and do just that one thing, to not compromise on my ideals for the sake of a job (at least that is what I heard on my end; is there ever really a conversation out there that is just a bunch of words without someone’s interpretation and misinterpretation of them? Can we not hear just what is said instead of what we believe we are hearing or want to hear?).
I began to think about this a lot, as I am a brooder by nature. And I began to think about this notion of specialization in design by comparing it to an Artist’s career. It’s hard for me not to look at the life of an artist by way of comparison, as painting has been a part of me for 15 years now.
Designers often have a signature, one they are most famous for. This usually happens later on in their careers, and for the lucky few this happens much earlier. But because as a designer your muse is your consumer, the end-user, the audience for which you design a product or a poster or a wine bottle label, your work is never really yours. It isn’t private, because that is not the point of it. Your work is immediately out there in the public, for the benefit or disadvantage to your personal career and your image as a designer. From day one your successes and failures materialize as a matter of public record; consumers interact with, are affected by, and sometimes coerced to spend money as a result of your designs. Thus, as a young designer while you are finding your signature, it is difficult to control your public image as a designer of one specialty.
On the contrary, the life of an Artist is very different in this sense. His work is a matter of personal record, not public. The public is allowed a glimpse of his artwork if they are invited. The life of a young artist is filled with failures, discarded paintings, canvases that have been reincarnated fifty times, sculptures that have been pulverized with a mallet. And then there are the successes, the paintings, sculptures, installations, that lead to more art. But never, in this tumultuous period of growth, is the young artist obligated to put his work out there, and as such he usually waits until he finds his signature before stepping out into the Sun. In this sense, the Artist is in total control of his public image. It is easier for the artist to be viewed by and known for only one style, one trademark: Picasso? Cubism; Degas? Impressionism; Dali? Surrealism; Monet? Impressionistic water lilies; the list goes on. But if you scavenge into the attics of their artistic careers, you will find many works much different than those they are known for. And the scavenging is only really possible with dead artists, whose private lives have been turned inside out; for the living, this is nearly impossible without being sued or thrown into jail. Or shot with a rifle.
The point of the comparison? None really, other than the exploration. And yes, I distinguish Artist from Designer. There are some who will disagree that these are two different creatures; that topic is for another day.
