Why is modernity such a burden for graphic design?

The rhetorics of rejection:
Why is modernity such a burden for graphic design?
David Cabianca
This paper probes the rhetoric of graphic design criticism in a context of revisiting the accepted face of
graphic design as an avant-garde practice. It attempts to examine the role of graphic design as a functioning
part of culture, one which interprets and reflects society rather than an activity that is simply an instrument
acting in the service of consumer capital. Histories of graphic design tend to commence their narrative
thread around the time that modernism first emerged. 1 In order to reflect the rapid changes affecting society
at the beginning of the 20th Century, the historical avant-garde sought to pursue a greater tie between the
urbanization and industrialization of society and the visual materials produced by and communicated to that
society. The historical avant-garde sought to create works that mirrored the newfound rationalization of life,
works of “neue Sachlichkeit” or “new sobriety” which reflected the tenets of standardization, mechanization
and industrialization. Work which was “objective” was considered rational. In this vein, the terms “beauty,”
“truth” and “neutrality” are both rhetorical devices which serve to prefigure an aesthetic outcome and
gatekeepers which regulate the images that circulate within their discourse. Each term attempts to rehearse
and anticipate the production of graphic design practice in the name of “unbiased communication.” In fact,
the moment graphic design attempts to act within a critical framework, capital simply withdraws from its
service and design is relegated to the dustbin.
So how do we deal with modernity? What constitutes “the modern” and how do we come to understand it or
interpret its significance? In an effort to identify what is “modern,” I turned to two individuals whose own
writings were directly involved with the analysis and the interpretation of their respective turbulent times as
observant critics of modernity, Charles Baudelaire and Walter Benjamin.
In fact, Benjamin acknowledges Baudelaire as the intellectual template upon which he modeled his own
analyses of modernist culture. Benjamin recognized that for Baudelaire, criticism was not determined by a
set structure of received notions handed down by the propriety of time. “Baudelaire placed the shock
experience at the center of his artistic work… Shock is among those experiences that have assumed decisive
importance for Baudelaire’s personality.” 2 Baudelaire relished in modernity’s ability to generate
“foreignness” or the shock of the new or unfamiliar. For Baudelaire, “‘[M]odernity’ mean[t] the ephemeral,
the fugitive, and the contingent, the half of art whose other half is the eternal and the immutable... This
transitory, fugitive element, whose metamorphoses are so rapid, must on no account be despised or
dispensed with.” 3 For Baudelaire, when something or some work captured his attention in delight or
revulsion, he would subsequently examine and analyze the why and wherefore, until he was able to
transform the initial shock or pleasure into knowledge. Baudelaire used the shock of the unfamiliar as a
method to propel his understanding of—and appreciation for—modern society. Benjamin was later to also
theorize the value of shock in the modern metropolis. He recognized that the familiarity of accepted
conventions is merely another form of anesthesia, one which numbs the senses and the mind to the
exigencies of the living world, “Comfort isolates… it brings those enjoying it closer to mechanization,” 4
which is to say that comfort and familiarity deaden life’s experience to a mechanistic, repetitive routine,
while the new or the unfamiliar offers the mind the possibility to take note of life’s richness anew.
Rather than examine emerging developments in 19th century society from the values of “high” art or
culture, Baudelaire was fascinated by what was otherwise marginalized—what society discarded, what it
otherwise turned a blind eye towards, and what it criticized as being an aberration. Baudelaire’s study of
painter Constantin Guys, “The painter of modern life,” is an analysis of the subjects Guys chose to paint.
[Fig.1] Baudelaire wrote about the base or fringe components of society: prostitutes, cosmetics, fashion,
carriages and the leisure class—yet these figures were beginning to form a substantial if not dominant
portion of the culture of 19th-century Paris. [Fig.2] In the 19th Century, these marginalized elements of
society were considered degenerates and delinquents, people and activities that were otherwise symptoms of
an unschooled lower class ignorant in the tastes of the dominant culture. By turning his gaze to the
periphery, Baudelaire was able to “see” contemporary society around him rather than long for a culture with
which he was familiar and which was rapidly being replaced with one which was alien. It is to Baudelaire’s

credit that he was able to recognize and appreciate the emergence of a middle class and the values of its
popular taste as being the driving force behind modernity.
Modern now: The value of shock
So what constitutes “shock” in 2008? Where do we turn to locate the marginal and disenfranchised in
contemporary graphic design? One possible option is to turn to criticism itself. Similar to Baudelaire’s study
of those figures derided by 19th century society, it is possible to look at contemporary criticism itself to
determine what our culture chooses to dismiss now as a possible signifier of modernity today.
One of the most infamous 20th-century critiques of graphic design was published in 1993 by writer and
critic Steven Heller. In contrast to Baudelaire’s adventurous attitude toward the exigencies of modernity,
Heller’s article, “The cult of the ugly,” lambasted the forms of graphic design among an emerging
generation as “ugly.” Originally published in the British graphic design magazine, Eye, Heller’s criticism
was precipitated by his receiving a eight-page pamphlet produced by the graduate students of Cranbrook
Academy of Art. [Fig.3] In writing about this pamphlet, which Heller decidedly describes as ugly, he states,
“Ask [what beauty is] to the Cranbrook Academy of Art students who created the ad hoc desktop
publication, Output, and judge by the evidence that they might answer that beauty is chaos born of found
letters layered on top of random patterns and shapes. [Fig.4] Those who value functional simplicity would
argue that the Cranbrook students’ publication, like a toad’s warts, is ugly.” 5 [Fig.5] And Heller continues
his tirade, “Output is eight unbound pages of blips, type fragments, random words, and other graphic
minutiae purposely given the serendipitous look of a printer’s make-ready… Output could be considered a
prime example of ugliness in the service of fashionable experimentation.” “As personal research, indeed as
personal art, it can be justified, but as a model for commercial practice, this kind of ugliness is a dead end.” 6
But if Heller’s critique is held to the methods set forth by Baudelaire, clearly the shock value of the work
Heller wishes to dismiss as “irrelevant,” suggests that this work is modern.
Heller’s essay was—and still is—one of the most valuable pieces of Western graphic design criticism. Its
value can be measured by the amount of discussion it caused which was symptomatic of a greater problem
within graphic design: How does graphic design expand to accept that which is “other”? In 1993, the work
of designers like Ed Fella, [Fig.6] Jeffery Keedy [Fig.7] and David Carson [Fig.8] was a divisive wedge
issue. It was hardly “beautiful” by any conventional or traditional definition. It lacked signs of a mastered
technique and it flaunted the proper conventions of accepted norms in typography. In fact, it looked
“amateurish” or vernacular. It looked undesigned. The fallout from “The cult of the ugly” was ultimately
beneficial to graphic design because it uncovered the cracks in the veneer of established practice. Sadly
however, the ensuing discussion here will attempt to show that discourse in graphic design has not changed
all that much since Heller’s article was first published.
Why ugly? The loss of technique
One of the tools that made this free-wheeling “amateur” aesthetic possible was the introduction of the
Macintosh computer in 1984 and Adobe’s PostScript printing language in 1986, which made desktop
publishing commonplace. The computer brought us such great moments as the “swirl filter” [Fig.9] and
some might say it was all downhill from there. [Fig.10] The computer gave us the possibility to easily layer,
distort, merge, mutate and essentially perform a whole number of operations which were either previously
impossible, or immensely time consuming. One could even produce new typefaces by simply using software
to merge their contours, thus we could literally produce a Frankenstein typeface. [Fig.11]
But perhaps most importantly, what the computer did do, was to disseminate the tools of graphic design
among a general public: now everyone could be a graphic designer. But the dissemination of graphic design
as an open practice comes with a price. The “uninitiated” or amateur designer’s lack of knowledge about the
strict rules of typography resulted in a loss of quality from a classical perspective. This democratization and
resulting debasement of quality meant that there was little to distinguish the work of trained, educated
graphic designers from that of a general public. The loosening of the rules of knowledge about what

constitutes the “proper” and what does not, would lead designers to create eccentric advertisements [Fig.12]
with tattooed, Hare Krishna nudists that use six different typefaces at the same time.
But the accusation that graphic design which is excessive, decorative and clumsy is therefore “amateur” or
“undesigned” relative to the refined modernist designs of Josef Müller-Brockmann, Massimo Vignelli, or
Wim Crouwel [Fig.13] is not a label which is so clearly applied. In 1922, William Addison Dwiggins coined
the term “graphic design” to distinguish his profession from the practice of fine art and the vocational
service of mere typesetting. But while Dwiggins recognized that as a graphic designer, his work was more
intellectually complex than that of a commercial typesetter, he also distanced himself from what he saw as
the non-American, imported aesthetic of “those Bauhaus boys” as he liked to call them, which included the
likes of Paul Rand and Herbert Bayer. In contrast to the European modernists, Dwiggins’ work recalled the
decorative, irregular and painterly lettering of the Arts and Crafts or Art Nouveau periods [Fig.14]:
Dwiggins’ work appeared old-fashioned and personal. His typography was ornamented, highly idiosyncratic
and irrational. In contrast, the spare, rationalist work influenced by the Bauhaus was new—and in an
American context—it was shocking. [Fig.15] Dwiggins’ work appealed to the decorative impulse of the
general public, which put it in an antagonistic position relative to the spare, minimalist work of the
commonly accepted forms of modernism. So while Dwiggins’ work was mannered and some might say a
throwback because of its roots in Arts and Crafts design, it was hardly “shocking,” and in this context,
hardly “modern.” But nearly 70 years later, by the time that Steven Heller wrote “The cult of the ugly” and
criticized designs which were being non-conventional and excessive, the discipline’s acceptance of what
was expected in graphic design had reversed: in a context of well established minimal corporate graphic
design of the 1990s, the mannered experiments described by Heller were shocking.
It’s 1993 all over again: The new ugly graphic design
One would think by now that this mannered and clumsy work would be fully embraced by graphic design as
part of the conventions of practice, and hardly worth criticism, but this is apparently not the case. In 2007
and in an editorial column published on the design blog Design Observer, [Fig.16] contributing writer
Dimitri Siegel has this to say about the work of Elliott Earls, current Chair of the 2D Design Department at
Cranbrook Academy of Art: [Fig.17] “The problem with the authorship model is that it replaces a tangible
engaged client with a vague notion of a market, passively waiting to consume (or more likely ignore) the
self-generated work of the designer (as author).... [T]he quest for authorship may jeopardize the economic
and cultural free agency that defines the field.” 7 Which was followed by an anonymous post, “[G]arbage.
It’s just not design.” 8 [Fig.18] Forgive me for dredging up some old history, but many of the comments echo
some of what was written by Steven Heller in “The cult of the ugly.” In fact, in a column published January
30, 2008, Steven Heller laments the re-emergence of hand typography or “amateur” graphic design as yet
again, a “dead end” in development:
Handwritten, expressively drawn lettering… is perilously close to the veritable precipice, and on the
proverbial edge of becoming an overused graphic design cliché. While style invariably breeds
redundancy, this hand-wrought style is so easily (and pleasurably) used in place of rigidly
conventional form, and it is found in so many print and internet venues that it may become an old
hand-me-down too soon.” 9
The comments of both Siegel and Heller display a desire to maintain disciplinary limits based on a nostalgia
for familiar visual tenets, a nostalgia for a loss of status. It is hardly forward thinking to forecast the success
or failure of a form of visual expression. Rather than attempt to impede the progression of a visual form, the
value of such work could be found in highlighting how the work makes present the character of an age: “The
pleasure which we derive from the representation of the present is due not only to the beauty with which it
can be invested, but also to its essential quality of being present.” 10
The anti-mastery of today’s handwork comes with a difference: [Fig.19] Hand typography is no longer
necessary. [Fig.20] The computer made hand typography and hand design superfluous. By stripping hand
typography of its necessity—nowadays, type comes from a pulldown menu—the choice to do typography or
lettering by hand is a conscious polemical statement. [Fig.21] The partners of Paris-based Vier5, Achim
Reichert and Marco Fiedler write,

We no longer build like we did 30 years ago, we don’t dress in the same fashion as 30 years ago, so
why should we still write like we did 30 years ago? [Fig.22] This is the starting point of a new
generation of typography, guided by the idea of shaping the future creatively and meaningfully. The
objective is to create a new form of typography that aims at replacing outdated standards which turn
out to be more and more anachronistic and useless, with new signs that are valid and respond to
contemporary structures. 11
Vier5 are in fact rather optimistic about graphic design. They do not see their work as a regression or as an
anachronism: [Fig.23] “Working with typography is also a scientific research work, research in cultural as
well as sociological areas. Developing typographical structures is close to exploring contemporary social
and cultural trends and influences.” 12 In fact, surprisingly, many of the clients of the new ugly are leading
cultural and fashion institutions. Firms like Vier5, MM Paris and Antoine+Manuel [Fig.24] list among their
clients the Centre for Contemporary Art in Bretigny. the Collection Lambert Contemporary Art Museum in
Avignon, [Fig.25] Lorient Théâtre in Paris, [Fig.26] and fashion designers Christian Lacroix, [Fig.27]
[Fig.28] and Calvin Klein. [Fig.29] Cultural institutions and fashion houses are perhaps among the most
attuned to the social and cultural mores of contemporary society. [Fig.30] Judged by the standards of
classical typography, the “poor technique” of contemporary hand typography would indicate that the there is
some other intent present than an urge to fulfill the conventions of accepted beauty (yet again). [Fig.31] Yet
whatever that intent might be, this work still shocks us, and is, ultimately, modern. [Fig.32]
__
David Cabianca, Assistant Professor
York University
Department of Design
4008 TEL Building
4700 Keele Street
Toronto ON, M3J 1P3
Canada
e cabianca@yorku.ca
t 416.736.2100 x44024
f 416.736.5450
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1 For the purposes of discussion here, I am pinning my definition of modernism to the emergence of the
historical avant-garde.
2 Walter Benjamin, “On some motifs in Baudelaire,” Illuminations (New York: Schocken Books, 1969)
p.163–164.
3 Charles Baudelaire, “The painter of modern life,” The painter of modern life and other essays (New York:
Da Capo, 1964) p.13.
4 Benjamin, p.174.
5 Steven Heller, “The cult of the ugly,” Eye no.9 vol.3 1993: 52–59.
6 Ibid.
7 Dimitri Siegel, “Designers and Dilettantes,” Design Observer Blog, September 18, 2007,
http://www.designobserver.com/archives/027986.html (accessed March 11, 2008).
8 Anonymous, comment on “Designers and Dilettantes,” Design Observer Blog, comment posted September
22, 2007, http://www.designobserver.com/archives/027986.html (accessed March 11, 2008).
9 Steven Heller, “The hand is back,” A Brief Message Blog, January 30, 2008,
http://abriefmessage.com/2008/01/30/heller/ (accessed March 21, 2008).
10 Baudelaire, p.1.
11 Achim Reichert and Marco Fiedler, “Look forward, never back: A view on modern typography,” New
Typographics (Tokyo: Pie Books, 2005), np.
12 Ibid.