The definition of “design” is one of those obscure nomenclatures that has been recycled just about every century since the beginning of time. Generally reflecting the philosophical state of society at that particular moment, it’s as if the subject is forced because of some impending identity crises. But let’s take a moment to strip away all the rubbish; all the superficial definitions added over the years and look at its true intrinsic core. I for one, think it can be reduced to nothing more than simply: anything altered by man.
It would be foolish to argue anything other than, as human beings, it is in our very nature to create. Think about it, it’s utterly impossible for me not to express myself whether purposefully or inadvertently in everything I do. This is true even in my body language (again, unintended or otherwise). And make no mistake, expression through creation is an extremely powerful force.
Calculated design with true meaning is something so powerful in fact, it practically defined the Renaissance. Designers like Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Bellini and Giotto dedicated their lives to understanding the nuances of human nature through studying, creating and reacting to it through their work. A “profession of expression” (Trademarked!) if you will. All designers, from the ancient Imhotep of the pyramids, to automobile pioneer Jozef Kabaň of Bugatti, share this expression through creation.
And while most people live by the guise of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I tend to argue that great design is beautiful because of both form and function; a crystal clear idea expressed in a physical representation. Consequently, for me, nothing is more timeless or pure than modern, minimalistic design ideas. Ideas based on basic principles that the human eye reacts positively and comfortably towards. For example, everything that isn’t necessary to make an object function, is nothing more than a distraction resulting in unnecessary complexity, and confusion. What differentiates a good designer from a great one though, is how one can meld the entire “function” as if it were only created to be admired as “form.” The point where every “part” has an absolute purpose, hidden behind beautiful, artistic craftsmanship. And I would argue what we currently refer to as “Modern,” is simply an approach that closely follows and sometimes pushes these minimal principles to their limit.
Allow me to explain… I have recently begun watching Mad Men on Netflix in my free time. The show is extraordinary; from its cinematography to casting, to the careful music selection, it tricks me into “reminiscing” about an era I’ll never see. But what I was most struck by over everything else, was the amount of eye-catching design in the set dressing. I was even more surprised by how much of it I still see being used by todays “modern” architecture and interior designers! The curved couches, pinstriped suits, shag rugs, tufted pillows, thick-framed glasses, script fonts; the list goes on and on. Even modern cars are starting to harken back to the 60’s with vintage nuances. How can this be? I was told by Ford, Chevy, Herman-Miller, Versace, Armani and Ikea that they were coming out with “brand new, cutting edge, never-before-seen” designs? Maybe it’s because some of their “borrowed” design influences were beautiful expressions of both form and function?
Take another example of Don Draper’s “roly-poly” whiskey glasses designed by Dorothy Thorpe (1904-1989), which made such a memorable impression that they graced the cover of the third season packaging. With their gently curved shape, smooth puntless bottom, horizontal forging marks, all topped with a minimalistic but bold silver rim, they really leave an impression of style with a flare of resplendence. Now Google “modern whisky glasses” and it’s littered with her influence.
Many other beautiful examples can be found throughout the show too, with Charles Eames’ fingerprint in particular, sprinkled among many of the furniture pieces. Sleek, sophisticated, and above all else: simple; this was the quintessential “Eames” era. It was this period when he built the world’s most recognizable chair: The Eames Lounge Chair. Herman Miller absorbed the rights after his passing and continues to produce them. Still handcrafted to this day, and weighing in at $5,000, it is the envy of any design enthusiast.
But I digress… You see, ultimately I have taken to the thought that “modern” design isn’t modern; it’s old. It’s a new name using the same basic set of principles of expression through form and function without distraction, pushed to its absolute limit. It’s just that now, most of our basic everyday objects of interaction are being re-imagined thanks to the prevalence of education and easy access to this new digital information age.
I by no means am a master designer, and although I do design professionally, I am partly unworthy and deeply humbled to use a term that has been carried by some of the world’s most remarkable aesthetic pioneers. I am truly thankful for such a proliferation of new ideas and theories on design, and eagerly look toward the future of my own (and the design community’s as a whole) continued creation and education. But as a practical suggestion, next time you’re tempted to shell out $200 for the newest fashion statement, try raiding grandma’s house first. You might be surprised by what you find.