As I prepare to give my first talk about my Graphic Commons research project next month, I have started a new Instagram feed to host some of my photography. For those that follow my general Instagram account, some of these images will be familiar to you. Over time, older research photographs will give way to new images as the project develops.
To date I haven’t created a dedicated space for these images, but posting to a specific Instagram feed makes sense within my research as I am able to add category hashtags, which helps to focus my thinking around the images, and more widely, where I may go next with this.
If you are new to Field Readings and unfamiliar with what Graphic Commons is all about, then the basic premise is that it is an investigation into how graphic design imposes itself on shared public environments, and the wider impact this has on society. I have posted to Field Readings about it several times in the past and you can catch up with those here, and there are still some Proposing the Graphic Commons pamphlets left if you would like one. They are free, but for a small postage charge—details are available here.
Today sees the last copy of The Guardian in its Berliner format.
What is about to follow will be known by those that come to this blog post after Monday 15 January 2018, when the new look Guardian is launched. But for now, only the new masthead has been revealed in a video teaser.
The teaser, and its corresponding print campaign, demonstrates some interesting references to John Stezaker covering found photographs with white squares, (and Jonathan Barnbrook’s subsequent ‘borrowing’ of this for David Bowie’s The Next Day), see Field Readings’ post Graphic obscura.
I’ve just finished reading Paul Sahre’s autobiography: Two-Dimensional Man: A Graphic Memoir, and it is one of the most untypical graphic design related books I have ever read. ‘Untypical’ because for much of the book Sahre writes about his personal and private life; and graphic design ‘related’ because, at times, his profession seems incidental to the main narrative. For this is no design monograph as he weaves stories about his first car; his family; his relationships; and even his dog Sid, in and out of talking about his graphic design practice. Most powerfully, hanging over the entire book from cover to cover, is Sahre’s relationship with his brother.
Although my McJunk project has been on hiatus for a while, I do occasionally post the odd example to Instagram. Believing that one person’s litter in the gutter is another person’s advert glaring from a billboard—because regardless of context, any representation of the McDonald’s logo reinforces brand recognition—I never thought that the company would sanction a marketing campaign that made a focus of its own litter. But in this post-irony world how wrong I appear to have been, as a new campaign for the restaurant chain proves.
Alongside others commenting online, I can draw clear parallels between TWBA\Paris’s poster campaign for the fast food chain and the discarded litter I often see strewn about my neighbourhood. The adverts use a simple colour palette and beautifully shot photography of McDonald’s food packaging with no food visible, bar a few crumbs. These tiny morsels, in such a minimal setting, only accentuate the sense that the packaging has been discarded after the product has been consumed.
See the new campaign over on Creative Review’s blog.
There is an irony to the fact that four days after the Can Graphic Design Save Your Life? exhibition opened at the Wellcome Collection, the biennial Defence and Security Equipment International (DSEI) arms fair kicked off at the ExCeL centre in London’s Docklands.
Banksy’s submission to Art the Arms Fair
Proposing the Graphic Commons
A Field Readings Publication | Nigel Ball | August 2017
Numbered—edition of 300
10pp | 134 x 300mm
1750 word text | 7 full-colour photographs
This pamphlet introduces the term Graphic Commons as an identifier with which to discuss graphic design within shared public environments. It sets out why a new linguistic term in contemporary graphic design discourse is required, and situates this as part of wider discussions surrounding urbanism and social responsibility.
I have had a fascination with the Festival of Britain since I came across one of its guidebooks several years ago and wrote an article about it for Eye magazine’s blog. In my day job I have also had the pleasure of hearing Abram Games’ daughter, Naomi Games, talk to students about her father’s work, (for the uninitiated, it was Abram Games that designed the FoB logo). Further to this, I have a keen interest in modernist design principles, and in particular the work of the Design Research Unit who played a key role in the planning and organisation of the 1951 Festival. It is therefore not surprising that when driving through the Lincolnshire village of Barnetby Le Wold while on holiday with my wife recently, that my eye caught sight of the familiar logo. However, the fact it was set into the concrete of a bench by a very busy roundabout was probably the last place I expected to see it.
The famous logo—the right hand rendering has faired better in the weather than the left