Because of the confusion, the administration is considering more “clear-cut wording for ownership of student work,” said Dean of Communications, Bruce Chong. Any revisions to the policy will be reviewed by SCAD’s executive legal counsel, Ernie Lee, but no changes will be made until the next catalog comes out. The catalog is a “promise to the students” regarding college policies, courses, and programs. Chong said if the policy is rewritten it will “be more explicit that students own their own work.”

Fourth year sequential art student Ronald Chan said, “I don’t have any problems with the wording of the policy. [It’s] quite clear, as well as easy to find.”

However, Chong said that he has fielded several student inquiries. Students have mistakenly believed that SCAD owns their art.

Executive Vice President of SCAD, John Burger said, “SCAD has no intention of owning student work. We want them to own their own work.”

Some misunderstanding may stem from a policy that used to be on SCAD’s website, but was not printed. The site “became large and had things that didn’t reflect current policy,” said Chong.

Chong explained another reason for the confusion about who owns student work could be because of other colleges’ policies. “There are a lot of different policies on a lot of different campuses on what’s considered student work.”

Research universities in particular have drastically different policies than SCAD. At most, if not all, research universities, the college retains the rights to all work created by students. If a chemistry student, for example, developed a new medicine, the college would be the one to sell the formula to a pharmaceutical company.

“For several years, there was an understanding among colleges that that’s the way it was,” Chong said. “Research universities are a different ball game.”

Burger said that SCAD’s current policy is “similar to other art colleges’.”

Typically, if the work would not have been possible without funds and guidance provided by the college, it belongs to the college. For example, SCAD owns a boat designed by students and faculty from the industrial design department. “Even though many faculty and students put time into it, the college put in a lot of resources to make it come to fruition,” said Chong.

Another reason why SCAD students own their own work is because of the volume of work they create. “There is not a warehouse in Savannah big enough to hold all of that,” Chong said. The photographs of student work at the communications department alone take up 10-12 filing cabinets.

Burger said the college has “no intention to appropriate student work.” The college does need to use it for promotional purposes though.

“SCAD reserves the right to use student work in promotions and catalogs-otherwise how would we represent the college?” Chong said.

SCAD tries to be cautious when including text with an image. “The tagline should reflect well on the student and the artwork,” said Chong. Often, the college will stick with an official slogan rather than risk making a student look bad.

Some students believe that SCAD should pay students whose work they use. “We spend hours upon hours working on projects,” said Michelle Zuck, fourth year sequential art.

Chong said that usually students are not compensated for use of their work. “It depends on how it’s distributed and whether or not the students own all rights to the work . . . Some work is based on logos or images owned by a corporation. [That type] could never be printed except as examples of student work.”

However, when the college distributed 80,000 DVDs that included an entire two minute animation, Chong said, “we came to an agreement so [the student] had some level of compensation because of the wide level of distribution.”

Chan said, “I don’t really see any problem with student work being used to promote the college without compensation or permission, but I think the artist should at least be notified.”

Whenever possible, Chong said SCAD will inform students about use of their work. For example, if a piece were to be used for an ad, the communications department would contact either the respective academic department or alumni services to make the student aware.

Chan said, “while the college isn’t obligated to do so, it would be nice if they went through that little bit of extra effort and sent emails out to the students. It’s an issue of courtesy, not of policy.”

Zuck questioned students’ ability to use published works. “Can we use it for our own personal use or will that be copyright infringement?”

Chong said “that is not an issue if the student tries to sell the work. [It’s] the same situation an artist would face if photos of their exhibition were published anywhere.”

Third-year broadcast design major, Christian Simmons, said, “I want to take History of Film and History of Graphic Design because those courses so closely relate to my field of study. History of Film would be more beneficial to me than a regular art history or architectural history elective for me simply because film is a passion of mine, and I will not only be interested, but will have a much higher likelihood of retaining the knowledge.”

Third-year media and performing arts major, Erin Rachels, said, “I think taking History of Film would be a great option as film and television is my minor and with a minor you only get eight classes to take. To me, it makes more sense to take the tech classes, and have the option of taking History of Film as an art history elective.”

Dean of the School of Liberal Arts, Desire Hounges, said that to move courses, such as History of Film, to the art history department, the professor teaching that course would need to be credentialed to teach art history. These courses are currently taught by faculty in the respective studio department.

Art history chair, Celina Jeffery, said “it’s a long standing tradition. Each studio department teaches [their] history from within.”

According to the Commission on Colleges of the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools (SACS), the organization that accredits SCAD, at least 25% of professors must have the terminal degree in their discipline. All faculty must have completed at least a master’s degree with a minimum of 18 graduate semester hours in the teaching discipline.

Hounges said that there is a distinction between a doctorate, the terminal degree in art history and an MFA, the terminal degree for most studio departments. The masters’ program is more studio orientated; it doesn’t offer enough art history for the graduates to teach art history.

Simmons said, “perhaps the faculty think we’ll ‘slack’ and only take those history classes? I’m not sure, but I know there must be a happy medium.”

Jeffery said that she would welcome greater interaction with the other departments, but that she doesn’t have the authority to integrate the history courses. “It may happen in the future, but it would have to be an institutional push.”

“I have already taken three traditional art history courses. It seems the obvious course for me now to follow is history classes that further my knowledge of the field I will be entering all too soon,” said Simmons.

Jeffery is trying to offer more courses in the art history department related to new media. Starting in the fall, students will have “three courses in the contemporary field that are media-based, geared towards video, film, performance, and even design.” Digital Art and Culture and Visual Culture will be offered in addition to the existing Survey of New Media Arts.

Jeffery also stated an interest in adding courses focusing on photography. “[It’s] something we’d like to achieve, but there is no professor within the department that’s a specialist.”

Hounges said that art history course offerings are dependent on the concentrations of the faculty members. Professors specialize in a particular aspect of art history, such as African or Asian art. Only if the college hired an art history professor with a specialization in animation would they be able to transfer the history out of the animation department.

However, Hounges said “there are not really many art history programs that offer degrees in [new medias.] It is rare for institutions to offer a PhD in art history in graphic design.” Because of the scarcity of art history programs focusing on new media, there are few faculty candidates who have the credentials to teach the courses.

“Students have asked about condensed courses in the summer,” said Jeff Eley, vice president of academic affairs. “Some students are non-traditional … the condensed classes may be a better fit.”

The five-week courses will be offered during both the first and last part of the regular summer quarter. Condensed classes will meet four days a week for two and a half hours.

Much discussion and research have gone into the program. In collaboration with faculty, the deans and chairs are determining the impact and which courses will be most successful.

Most, if not all, faculty teaching the condensed courses volunteered. Many have offered input into what classes would be best suited to the format.

Dean of Film and Digital Media Weishar said, “Some professors’ teaching styles lend themselves to a five week class.”

Many details are still being resolved; exactly what courses will be offered is still to be decided.

Eley expects to finalize the details within the next couple of weeks. “The key thing is patience. Soon we’ll have information,” he said.

Dean of Communication Arts Andy Fulp said that the shortened sessions will only be at Savannah. Teaching the courses at Atlanta would involve too many unknowns whereas Savannah is a more established environment.

Because the five week sessions are a pilot program, students will likely be required to offer more feedback than they would in a regular class.

Dean of Film and Digital Media Peter Weishar said, “We will keep an extra eye on the five week courses and see the feedback, quality of work and popularity of the class.”

Eley said, “This is an opportunity to really carefully look at the successes and initiate positive things. We’ll see how things work and how to configure them to look for the best way to teach effectively. We’ll address the interest of students and the demands of individual courses.”

Fulp said, “[The shorter classes] have to have the success, knowledge and skill of any other course.”

Although she’s not interested in taking any summer classes, Laura Everill, an undecided first year student said, “For those that would, it’s a good idea.”

Third year film and television student Mickey Heffernan said, “I’m totally for it … It’s the way ‘real’ summer school works. It’s not anything strange or out of the ordinary.”

Although SCAD plans to offer a variety of classes in a variety of different majors and levels, the number of courses will be limited because the program is still in the testing phase. Every major under communication arts will offer a few classes, according to Fulp. Weishar said that the school of film and digital media would have approximately five courses in each session.

Fulp said, “The courses will have a condensed time frame, but not a condensed subject matter.”

Syllabi for the courses will be identical to their 10 week counterparts. Students will be required to finish in one week something that may usually be given two weeks to complete. According to Fulp, students can gain more insight into the business world by working under the tighter deadlines. By preparing for an abbreviated timeframe, students can learn to better prioritize and manage their time.

Fulp said that there are several other benefits to the condensed sessions. By taking a prerequisite the first session and the follow-up the second, students can take a sequence of courses in one quarter. Students can leave Savannah earlier by taking courses during the first session, possibly enabling them to start their careers sooner. The condensed class work may also teach students new solutions to problems that might not come up in a regular length class, such as techniques to speed drying times.

Most likely, there won’t be as many studios available in shorter sessions because of the tremendous amount of time required to fulfill the requirements. Many agreed that there are certain courses that are just not feasible under a shortened time frame.

Professor Roger Walton said, “Some classes would lend themselves well to five weeks of Monday through Thursday classes such as Life Painting. Other courses would not work well with fewer weekends of homework, such as the Materials and Techniques of Rubens.”

“Lecture courses would work well, but there’s not very many [in film and digital media]. Usually a class with a technical aspect, building upon a skill day by day, lends itself to a five week schedule,” Weishar said. “Sometimes 10 weeks is too long.”

“There won’t be any thesis classes in five weeks. That’s just not enough time. Some film classes need time to edit, which isn’t doable in five weeks,” he said.

Heffernan said, “It would be impossible to do film in five weeks; the 10 week quarters can be too short.”

Some classes Heffernan said that he would be interested in taking at a faster pace would be Screenwriting or Intro to Film in the film department or an art history or foundations course, such as Life Drawing.

Fulp said that he encourages students interested in taking a course on an abbreviated schedule to speak with an adviser or professor first. “Students have to know what they’re getting into. We don’t want to surprise anyone and have them not able to handle it.”

First year industrial design student Maddy Gibson said, “[The condensed courses] would probably be best to take one at a time only.”

Fulp said that SCAD would likely limit the amount of accelerated pace classes students can take to prevent them from becoming overloaded.

As to whether or not the condensed sessions will be offered in subsequent quarters, Weishar said that it depends on the success of the pilot.

Heffernan said, “It would be nice to have some sort of school financial aid for the summer. Tons of other colleges have things such as school-funded scholarships for summer sessions.”

But why should I get involved you say? “It’s rewarding to do something other than schoolwork, to impact and influence people’s lives,” said fourth year animation student, Aaron McGriff, who been active in community service since high school. “It’s also a way to feel good at the end of the day.”

McGriff said he has been working both with his residence hall council and SOS’ service club coordinator to set up more opportunities for students. He said, “Boys and Girls club desperately needs help. They’re turning kids away because they’re so severely understaffed.”

First year illustration student Mimia Johnson said, “It is important that we share our time, talent, and resources with others that are not as lucky as ourselves. Just think if everyone only took an hour or so out of their week to volunteer, what an impact we could make.”

Johnson said that she was very involved in volunteer work while in high school. Now, in addition to volunteering as one of SCAD’s student ambassadors, she is setting up some projects with the Montessori school.

Student Director of Service Opportunities for Students, Mark Roma, said there are numerous activities for students to get involved in. Some activities, such as building homes through Habitat for Humanity and serving in a soup kitchen through Deli Project, are ongoing. Union Mission and the Salvation Army are always looking for help. Students seeking more information about SOS’ events can contact the office through email at sos@scad.edu, by phone at 525-8800 or they can simply stop by their office in Dyson Lobby. Roma said SOS serves to supply food, supplies, transportation and communication with the volunteer sites.

Many times students have found these opportunities on their own. “We’ve stumbled across students who have been volunteering at a site for years who have never been involved with SOS,” he said.

Most students get involved because of passion for a particular cause, according to Roma. “These students extend themselves and ask questions about how they can help.” He said that SOS’ Art Educators program is one of the most popular. Many students who are passionate about the environment work with Students for a Better Environment. Roma and McGriff said they most enjoy working with kids. I’ve always been passionate about animals so I’ve spent time volunteering for a no-kill shelter for sick, abandoned and abused cats. Help the cause you’re passionate about.

Other students may get involved because they are new in school without much to do with their time; they’re looking for something to do, according to Roma. Also, many clubs get involved as a social activity or to get more funding through USF’s service grant.

According to Roma, most of SOS’ volunteers and coordinators would be just as involved even if there were no SOS. He said he himself hadn’t known much about what SOS did until this year’s Splash. As director, he was required to go to all 8 different sites. “It was an amazing time. It’s so great to see students involved,” he said.

What’s that? You say you’re too busy to help? Volunteering at the shelter was often the highlight of my week. Roma said that he often feels more energized after volunteering.

“At the end of last quarter, when I was the most stressed, working with the kids at East Broad Elementary reenergized me. It was like an emotional recharge. I had more energy than I had before from being around those kids,” he said.

Johnson said, “Sometimes it feels like I am in the constant juggling act just trying to keep up with everything … For me, it is figuring out what is important, and doing what I have to do to get it done.”

“A lot of times it’s more rewarding when you have to sacrifice,” said McGriff.

“I volunteer because I know I will never realize what it meant to even the one person who I helped. Granted, I don’t know what it is like to be an abused child, have a child who is extremely sick, or not know what it is like to own my own home, or even get to just sleep under a roof every night, but I can help my fellow human beings who know these realities all too well,” said Johnson.

Even though volunteering is a way to share your love with the community, many feel the love being returned to them. Johnson said that she has always received a positive response from those that she has helped. Many of the cats at the shelter who had been afraid of people warmed up to me and begged for attention. Eventually, many found permanent homes.

McGriff said about his experiences working with the kids at East Broad, “A lot of times, you can tell on their faces … They light up when you walk in the room.”

He has had similar experiences through his work as a student ambassador. “Students have come up to me and said, ‘You led my tour. You’re one of the reasons I came here.’”

“I don’t do it for the praise,” he said. “It just makes you feel good inside.”

Although most, if not all volunteers are doing so to help others, many find that they get just as much, if not more, out of it than those they are helping. Even the students who were only volunteering because they were required to do so enjoyed themselves at the end of the day, according to McGriff.

“It gives you a different outlook. You think differently and take less for granted … It’s more rewarding than people give it credit for,” said McGriff.

You can also help in more passive ways. Donate items you no longer need. McGriff said that all of the residence halls have a clothing drive going on for the next few weeks. Johnson has helped in the past by donating more than 10” of her hair to Locks of Love, an organization that uses donated hair to make wigs for kids who suffer from long-term medical hair loss.

Or if you’re one of those rare students with deep pockets, get out your checkbook. Instead of spending $100 on a nice dinner, think about how that money could help the world around you.

McGriff said that he “encourages everyone to be able to look back and see how you’ve helped someone other than yourself.”

Most SCAD students have probably heard discouraging comments from their friends and relatives such as: “Art school?!” “What are you going to do when you get out?” “Are you going to be able to get a job when you graduate?” What’s worse is some students may actually believe these negative sentiments.

That simply isn’t the case, according to writer Dan Pink. He said that he believes those with artistic backgrounds will have an advantage over their business world counterparts.

“Soon those seeking art degrees will be seen as making a wise, shrewd, hard-nosed decision. I have three children. When they go off to college, I would rather see them pursue MFAs than MBAs,” said Pink.

A piece he wrote in Feb. 2004 issue of the Harvard Business Review pioneered the concept of the MFA becoming more valuable than a MBA. Pink wrote a book, A Whole New World, to be released March 24, about the career fields of the future.

Pink’s research for a Whole New World didn’t come from just one source. He said he “created a mosaic” of how the western world is shifting from many different articles and interviews.

Pink’s writing has been published in Wired, Harvard Business Review, NY Times, Fast Company and many other publications. His bestselling book, Free Agent Nation, is also being used in various MBA curricula. He has also worked as a speechwriter for Vice President Al Gore and advised numerous start-up and Fortune 100 companies.

The Conceptual Age

According to Pink, in the 1700s our economy shifted from agricultural to industrial. Within the past century, the American economy has moved from technological to information and now we are moving into what Pink calls “the Conceptual Age.”

The shift in the business world parallels the shift in the art world towards desiring more conceptual work. Just as in the art world concepts are just as important as the appearance (if not more so), thoughts, ideas and emotions are becoming the driving forces of the business world.

The American economy is going through another change towards putting more value on creativity than on knowledge-based workers, according to Pink. He said that careers likely to be more valued now and in the future are those that “can’t be done by foreigners cheaper or automated by computers.” He suspects that occupations such as accounting, computer programming and engineering will go the way that factory work did 20 years ago. They will still exist, but not nearly to the extent that they do now.

While according to Pink, the US will still have a service economy, the difference will be what services are provided. Pink said art, leisure, design, entertainment and counseling are likely to be the type of services provided by American workers.

These career fields that are likely to be more in demand are those that “computers can’t do faster and foreigners can’t do cheaper.” Just as manufacturing jobs moved overseas because it was cheaper to do so, now white collar jobs, such as accounting and computer programming are being outsourced. The rate of pay for Americans as opposed to emerging countries is drastically higher. For example, while programmers in the US could make a $75K yearly salary, their counterparts in India could be paid $12K a year.

The issue of technology taking away jobs will continue to be a problem. While these jobs will not disappear altogether, the amount of people needed to perform these tasks will drastically reduce as computers can allow one person to do the job of what used to take many.

Because many fields are dwindling due to outsourcing and automation, the business world is focusing less on left-brain qualities, like number-crunching, than right-brain attributes. Right brain qualities are those that come easily to artists, such as thinking holistically, emotionally and innovatively.

“Design is an approach to the world that is more artistic, innovative and memorable,” said Pink.

With society’s desire for things such as designer toilet brushes, it’s only natural that careers such as designers would be more in demand. It is no longer enough to just create function to prosper in today’s world, according to Pink.

Education

“Art school is better for equipping for the economy that is emerging,” said Pink. “Graphic design, industrial design, even the fine arts, it doesn’t matter what medium you use; it’s about the broader array of abilities.”

Terminal degrees are becoming less important. “It matters less what words are written or even if having a piece of parchment,” said Pink.

Many MBA programs are changing to keep with what the business world desires. It used to be laughable for MBA programs to include coursework on subjects such as design and philosophy. Now, these same programs must include these subjects in order for their graduates to stay competitive.

Director of Career Planning and Placement, Pat Helbig, who holds a MBA, said Pink’s ideas aren’t completely new concepts. When she was in school, she was encouraged to pursue her undergraduate work in humanities or liberal arts and then go for a MBA.

Many of the qualities business schools are trying to install in their students are naturally inherent in artistic types. For example, through coursework on spirituality, value and meaning, many schools are trying to get their students to “contemplate why they’re here. Artists are inclined to do this anyways,” said Pink.

“Don’t go to school to be employable. School is not only vocational. Expand your mind,” said Pink.

Art students are more likely to pursue their education simply because they are interested in the subject. Artists genuinely enjoy what they do. They aren’t motivated by money as much as the desire to do what they like.

First year sequential art student Del Borovic said, “I’ve always done art. I wanted to pursue and study art.”

Liz Robertson, who graduated in 2004 with a BFA in illustration, said, “I always wanted to be an artist.”

Although art students they don’t tend to study subjects they don’t like simply to improve their career options, career prospects after college are still a concern.

Jamar Gooch, second year sequential art student said, “I wanted to learn more about comic books. I want to learn comics for a living.”

Robertson said that she is currently working as a bank teller. “SCAD taught me about the field of illustration, but didn’t really help me career wise. I freelance on my own.”

Spreading the concept

Since Pink’s original article was published, numerous other articles on the same concept have been published in business trade periodicals such as Fortune and Wired. Graphic design journal, HOW, also had an interview with Pink in their last issue.

Very few SCAD students read business magazines and journals. Borovic laughed when asked about the subject.

Helbig said she read Pink’s Harvard Business Review article when it was first published and has been waiting for the idea to be discussed in art and art-education related publications. She said she hasn’t seen any mention of the concept in these types of magazines and trade journals.

According to Helbig, one possible reason this concept hasn’t been included in many publications that those in the art field would tend to read is that those in business may believe that because art school graduates don’t realize how valuable they are, businesses can pay them much less than they are really worth.

Pink’s ideas are gaining recognition among the movers and shakers of the business world, according to Helbig, but haven’t trickled down to recruiters yet. She said she hasn’t heard any mention of art school graduates being favored over business school graduates from companies that have come to visit SCAD. She said she hasn’t noticed a change in the types of positions or the types of companies seeking employees.

Helbig doesn’t want SCAD graduates to be underpaid; she wants to empower students with the knowledge of how valuable their talents are. She is in discussions with Pink to have him visit SCAD in the spring to let students know about the opportunities awaiting them.

He was in London to receive a Royal Society of Arts award. The visit inspired his former pupil Michele Jannuzzi, of design consultancy Jannuzzi Smith, to organise a talk and an exhibition of the great man’s posters. “It was a chance to say thank you,” explains Jannuzzi, “and to give today’s students the opportunity to see his work and to hear his views.”

I was also struck by the way he was keen to demystify the process of design. He talked about the realities of working life and showed that, even for a designer as eminent as himself, there is rejection and disappointment. In my visits to colleges I meet too many young designers who seem to imagine that great work, the stuff they see in magazines and books, is immaculately conceived: they seem to imagine that there is an elite, privileged group of fashionable designers who get handed perfect briefs and deliver perfect pieces of work. But professional life is rarely like this. Most great work is usually “sweated out” of unlikely circumstances. Every job, no matter how cool, has a messy back story.

Hearing the news, Michele Jannuzzi of design group Jannuzzi Smith, a friend and old scholar from the Lugano School of Design, swiftly pulled a few strings and organised, in conjunction with the Swiss embassy, a talk at Central St Martins College of Art and Design and a small exhibition of his poster work.

The second volume in the series Issues in Cultural Theory, this book is an extensive overview of the work of innovative Swiss designer Monguzzi. As Louis Danziger writes in his appreciation, Monguzzi is someone whose “greatness is most appreciated by the design practitioner; to the connoisseur the work is profound.” In addition to Danziger’s, there are tributes from Rudolph de Harak, Gene Federico, April Greiman and others.

We progress, another story, more broken rules, we sit with the client waiting for the reaction. Success! The lesson: be patient; wait for the communication to break through. Monguzzi is a thrill. He loves his work, he loves communication, he loves students, he loves us. He concludes with a brief synopsis of his work – type and photography communicating – sometimes calisthenically – and then in his closing words he tells us that Anna is here with us (we don’t know who she is) and he announces that he loves her. His face is beaming.

It is about this point that April Greiman enters the discussion. She begins assuming that we have all seen Wayne’s World three or four times. She rises and says, “It goes like this.” She bows three times to Monguzzi saying, “I am unworthy, I am unworthy, I am unworthy.” Monguzzi has not seen Wayne’s World but we all get the point. This is a kenotic individual. Kenotic individuals are scary because if they have developed their knowledge and refined their mind and technique they become the instrument of a spirit which is beyond ego. And we are all aware that this woman is a master.

Bruno stresses communication and with all his being articulates and acts it out. April reflects, remembers, and muses on meaning and shares with us in a self-effacing manner her memories and her reflections. Communication and meaning. We are treated to both.

April describes her induction into AGI in Europe and her invitation to her first congress which took place in Switzerland. As an inductee she was expected to give a presentation of her work. She has angst. Her former teachers will be there. It is a masculine environment. She gives a relatively high-tech presentation (for the time) with image blenders and sound track and a little commentary from herself. It is going smoothly but then she senses disapproval. She begins to flounder. Despair and despondency are creeping in. Then, out of nowhere, a giant presence leaps to the stage exclaiming “magnifico,” embraces her and overwhelms her with a kiss. He seems an immense being. The room drops away. She is engulfed by this accepting, embracing, kissing moment. Who is this being? It is little Monguzzi. His body is little. But his spirit is great.

April had never met him. “I didn’t know who he was. He might have worked there. He might have been a waiter.” But it was Monguzzi. “This,” April informs us, “is the story of the time I was saved by Bruno Monguzzi in Switzerland.”

Swiss born graphic designer Bruno Monguzzi, famed for work for clients such as Musee d’Orsay and Pirelli, has just received the distinction Royal Designer for Industry. Sara Manuelli meets him.

The latest Royal Society of Arts celebration saw the heady mix of designers Jonathan Ive, Ross Lovegrove, Terence Woodgate, Stefanos Lazaridis and Bruno Monguzzi all receive the distinction Royal Designer for Industry. Of all the design awards, the RDI is arguably still one of the most prestigious ones; there are only 100 RDIs at any given time and members are voted by a group of peers.

When a couple of months ago, the Swiss-born graphic designer Monguzzi was told he was being honoured, he rang his London friends, among whom are Alan Fletcher, Dennis Bailey and Derek Birdsall, to announce that he will be visiting London.

Boggeri is impressed by the young designer and takes him on board. With Boggeri, Monguzzi learns one of the most important lessons in his career as a designer, one which is often mentioned in books and articles. ‘He told me Swiss graphic design was often as perfect as any spider’s web,’ says Monguzzi. ‘But it is often a useless perfection. The web, Boggeri told me, is only useful when broken by the entangled fly.’

Returning to Milan after successive spells in North America, where he worked for the Montreal Expo 1967, the Metropolitan Transport Authority of New York and the Canadian National Film Board, Monguzzi reconnects with Studio Boggeri to work on a pitch for an aspect of tyre company Pirelli’s identity. Now 30 years old, and married to Boggeri’s daughter Anna, Monguzzi moves back to Switzerland, and starts teaching at the Lugano School of Design.

In these years Monguzzi produces some of his most compelling work, designing exhibitions, environmental graphic design and packaging, and collaborating with Roberto Sambonet and architect Giancarlo Ortelli. In 1975, he designs his iconic, ‘constructivist’ poster for the Majakovskij Mejerchol’d Stanislavskij exhibition at the Castello Sforzesco in Milan. In 1977, the portfolio Della Pazzia, a collection of drawings of inmates in a Brazilian mental institution, is exhibited in Milan and Mantova. In 1983, he wins the international competition for the visual identity of the new Musee d’Orsay in Paris, by Italian architect Gae Aulenti. His strikingly simple logo is a demonstration in reduction.

Although now part of an ‘international club’ (in 1971 he received the prestigious Italian Bodoni Prize and in the late 1970s he joins Alliance Graphique Internationale),
100 + 3 Swiss Posters: The Odermatt Collection showcases a wealth of Swiss graphic design talent, including Max Bill, Karl Gerstner, Bruno Monguzzi, Fritz Buhler (1945 pictured) and Emil Ruder, handpicked from his personal archive by Siegfried Odermatt. One half of the consultancy duo Odermatt & Tissi, the designer has contributed three of his own creations to the exhibition, which runs from 26 June to 22 August at the London Institute Gallery in Mayfair, London W1.

The three basic figures of the logo of the cantonal museum of art of Lugano (Tessin), are the circle, the triangle and the square. The triangle is large “A” capital, typographical character of the Bodoni family, sheltering a small “m” lower case, inspired by a nature drawn by Theo van Doesburg. “This logo symbolizes the complexity of the artistic evolution of the ten ninth century to the advent of the contemporary art, historical period of the permanent collection of the museum”, specifies its designer, Bruno Monguzzi, native of Tessin, canton of southernmost Switzerland.

This particular work of Bruno Monguzzi will be the starting point of a teaching project carried out by the college Marie Curie of Échirolles.
This exposure is coproduite by the provincia di Torino.

Other designers in the exhibition are Bruno Monguzzi, Josef Müller-Brockmann, Rosemarie Tissi and Niklaus Troxler. Their works present design approaches ranging from bold use of scale and space to the search for both universal and personal symbols, to finessed synthesis of type and image, as well as a myriad of other techniques reflecting transformations in culture and technology and above all, the keenness of artistic intelligence made visible through the mastery of craft. Many of the posters in the exhibition have won major Swiss and international competitions.

Monguzzi’s work, from 1961 to the present, is elegantly reproduced in color (clients include Pirelli, IBM and the Museo Cantonale d’Arte in Lugano) and there is an entertaining essay/interview by Nunoo-Quarcoo, professor of graphic design at the University. De Harak admires “his uncanny ability to anticipate how much to leave out…”

Throughout this celebration of Monguzzi’s body of work and design philosophy is the sense that it represents “a mix of head and heart” (Danziger); as Greiman puts it, he renews her faith “in what’s best about being a human and in design.”

Bruno Mongazzi is best known for his poster designs and the logo he created for the Musée d’Orsay in Paris.

The fuse had reached its end. As Bruno began to explore his professional development, he exploded in “calisthenic” description of his experience designing a poster for the Musee d”Orsay. The director of he museum paced frantically before us deliberating on the audacious thing that Monguzzi had done. He was only to use logo and date, but to solve the problem he had introduced a photo. But it worked. The director took the design personally to the board for review. It worked. But the photo had been cropped and the proprietary studio had forbidden cropping of their photos. Alas! And yet the studio not only relented but did so joyously and also provided another free photo for the exposition.

Monguzzi is probably better known abroad than in his home country ( winning a gold medal in Toyama last year for example ) although his many posters for the Museo Cantonale d’Arte in Lugano or his logo for the Musee d’Orsay in Paris are very popular.
There is a fabulous exhibition of Monguzzi posters and other graphic design work from September 9 to November 4, 2001, in Winterthur (CH), close to Zuerich, and you find all the details on the web site of the Gewerbemuseum Winterthur.

The Royal Society of Arts has named the Swiss designer, Bruno Monguzzi, an Honorary Royal Designer for Industry. Monguzzi is only the sixth Swiss artist to win the distinction, which is awarded for “sustained excellence in aesthetic and efficient design for industry”.

Among his best-known works are seven pavilions he designed for the Montreal Expo of 1967, which first brought him to international prominence, and the logo of the Musée d’Orsay in Paris.

The Swiss artist is probably better known abroad than in his home country. Monguzzi has won a number of awards, including the Gold Medal of the Art Directors Club of New York and the Yusaku Kamekura Award of the International Poster Triennial in Toyama, Japan.

Meanwhile I had lectured on Gestalt psychology and typographic design at The modesty and honesty of this typographic work were, to my surprise, honoured by the Italians with the Bodoni Prize in 1971. I have, ever since, been busy with books and exhibit design, with museography here and in Paris, but mainly I have been busy with teaching, here as well as in America. The Frenchmen too wished to honour me with a Janus Prize for my work in the new Musee d’Orsay, the Americans with a golden cube (fake), and the Japanese with the Yusaku Kamekura Award and three surreal-dadaist medals in bronze, silver and gold (the real thing). From the Swiss, renowned for their parsimony, all I got was a lot of paper.

Now in his 60s, Monguzzi’s work over the past four decades has placed him in the first rank of living graphic designers. But, paradoxically, there is no such thing as a Monguzzi style. Instead there is a stylistic diversity – a range of voices – that can best be explained by his unusual education and his concept of the role of the graphic designer.

In an interview, Monguzzi has likened the role of the designer to that of “the translator, or as El Lissitsky did in 1924, to that of the actor. Of course the actor has a voice and a body, but he lends them to the character to which he is giving life.” He has also written that the designer’s work “should primarily bear the trademark of the sender, not the designer”. This is a common enough philosophy in mainstream design, but in lesser hands it merely results in the reiteration of existing styles and trends and the sort of work the designer thinks their client is expecting to see. In Monguzzi’s case he is advocating something deeper. He is advocating using as much historical, cultural, psychological, humanitarian and personal knowledge as possible to create work that expresses underlying function.

Monguzzi is a natural teacher and, as with all great teachers, his method doesn’t look or feel like teaching. He talks and you listen: the things he says linger in the mind. His lecture at Central St Martins was a tour de force of gentle instruction. He spoke about the need to “disobey the brief”, something that is fundamental to the Monguzzi ethos. From the lips of a lesser designer, this might sound like arrogant posturing, but in Monguzzi’s case you sense that it is an essential part of his creative process.

If anything, this anecdote sheds light on Monguzzi’s drive and curiosity, which arguably helped develop his technique early in his career.

During a period when graphic design was heavily influenced by the principles of Swiss typography, Monguzzi decides to reclaim his Italian side.

It was then that Monguzzi finally disentangled himself from the web of his Swiss education, primarily concerned with aesthetics rather than substance. Indeed, it is this hunt for ‘an improbable fly’ that steered Monguzzi’s work towards the functional and rational aspects of Modernism rather than its incumbent aesthetics.

Monguzzi still feels like an outsider. He always tells his students that disobeying the brief is an important value to learn. He does not believe in style, but in a method, something he says furniture designers such as Charles Eames and Achille Castiglioni epitomise very well in their work.

Monguzzi’s main belief is that graphic design is mass communication. ‘We have a huge responsibility in creating an urban environment,’ he says. Monguzzi’s search is for meaning, rather than perfection. His posters start as ideas, to which type, colour and composition are applied only once meaning is established. Looking at the use of the computer in design, Monguzzi admits its extraordinary role, but argues the issue is not the medium, but the message.

The effectiveness of this creation is due to its great control of the typography, “the vehicle by which the word can be seen and, if all is well, memorized”, which according to its remarks, occupies a fundamental place in its work.

Bruno Monguzzi quotes readily El Lissitzky “the typography must be able to make, with the means of the sight, which the voice and the gesture make for the expression of the thought”. With the question “there is an ethics of the design?”, it answers: “there is rather an ethics of the designer. Our personal beliefs define our values. And these values define the behavior. In each case we are confronted with three responsibilities, the first towards the sleeping partner, the second towards the user, the third towards the environment “.
Yes, the graphic designer interprets, translates the message or the idea of another. And this obliteration in front of the sleeping partner finds his limit in his ethics.

Designed by Monguzzi, this small paperback exemplifies his opening words, “I find our society a bit noisy. I just would like to contribute a little silence.” When discussing the popularity of Helvetica in the ’60s and Gill Sans in the ’80s, Monguzzi poses the question, “What is the relationship between the fundamental characteristic of a typeface, its weight, its rhythm, how it sets, how it reads, and the passing whims of fashion?” He goes on further with the subject of fashion in design: “In the hope of freedom, many graphic designers seem in fact to adapt their ‘personal’ language to visual modes that immediately become abused, overused, and then rejected in a kind of contagious visual bulimia.”

The late designer Ikko Tanaka said of Monguzzi’s work at an exhibition in Tokyo in 2000: “Monguzzi’s works are deeply rooted in the Swiss tradition of modern typography, but they don’t look old or dated in the least. Each piece is a masterwork of expression, imparting a sense of freshness and emotion combined with intelligence, bold and powerful structures (…) “When examined closely. Monguzzi’s design style is free of waste. He identifies the core elements of the message and embodies it in a splendid and powerful form. One can see that no effort was spared in communicating the theme itself without allowing the personality of the artist to intrude on the work itself. For example, one can appreciate the careful attention given by the artist to the selection of the typefaces (…) “Monguzzi’s works carry with them the clean air of Lake Lugano, Yet they also express just a hint of lunacy. As in the posters of Museo Cantonale d’Arte, he weaves together a collage from pieces of ordinary photos, pictures, and letters into an artwork as if he were a magician. He is an amazing artist whose designs emanate poetry.”

Voila! As from Aesop’s tales, Bruno draws a conclusion: don’t be afraid to break the rules if it solves the problem. Don’t let rules limit your vocabulary of communication.

Monguzzi contrasts fashion design and graphic design: “a shoe is still a shoe, a bikini is still a bikini, but graphic design must communicate.” Too many graphic designers are concerned with fashions or obscure design concepts and they don’t care about communication.

Monguzzi leaps from his seat. Design has become like religion – sectarian – filled with competing Catholics and Protestants. But who cares. Only designers. People want communication. He dances across the stage yelling “Shit!” “Shit.” Shit?” with different tones and inflections to demonstrate the various sectarian doctrines.

“He makes pictures out of type” is a somewhat simplistic label that is attached to him, and although true, it by no means exhausts his profound talents. “If you keep shouting, you are not making communication any better. You are only removing talking and whispering from the system” he says on the first page of the small book that was published about his work in 1998.

“Some posters are telegrams and some posters are poems” he explained when he noted my bewilderment with the many posters published today whose message I don’t understand.

Monguzzi is a great fan of russian constructivist typography, and of El Lisitskii in particular, and anyone knowing both of them will be delighted in the quotes, variations and hommages to his idol that can be found in Monguzzi’s posters. Me, in turn, I am a longtime fan of Bruno Monguzzi, and if you ever wonderd what made me draw those heavy lines above and below the title of these pages then look at the Strawinski poster below, one of my all-time favorites.

Speaking to reporters after the ceremony, Monguzzi was keen to point out that winning one of the world’s most prestigious design awards did not mean that he was ready to rest on his laurels:

“Now I have a little more responsibility, but it’s wonderful. It’s wonderful because it spurs you on to do great things, to become more serious, to put more effort into your work.”

The Japanese designer, Ikko Tanaka, once described Monguzzi’s posters for the Museo Cantonale d’Arte in Lugano as “weaving together a collage from pieces of ordinary photos, pictures, and letters into an artwork as if he were a magician.”

For his part, Monguzzi describes his approach to graphic design as low-key:

“If you keep shouting, you are not making communication any better. You are only removing talking and whispering from the system.”

I have always remained a child and never ceased asking: why? An incautious adolescent who dreamed of changing the world – first with a pencil, later through revolution – it was the world, of course, that eventually changed me.

But it was in fact due to those interwoven moralisms that the search for meaning became a natural need to me, and that they, my father and my mother, unaware, became my first masters. She had the extraordinary humbleness not to understand when there was really nothing to be understood; I would then go back to my drawing table and start all over again. He, a small artisan, loved what he did with his hands, with his eyes, with his thought, and he wouldn’t stop until he had accomplished perfection.

Monguzzi has fond memories of London. In 1960, he spent a year on a Swiss scholarship studying typography, photography and the psychology of perception. He was able to pick and choose different courses, which included the tutoring of Dennis Bailey at the (then) School of Printing, Ken Briggs and Romek Marber at the St Martins School and David Collins at the (then) Central School.

Sitting in the audience for the talk held for the students at Central St Martins, Bailey tells me that when he first met him in 1960, he thought Monguzzi was wasting his time, and that perhaps he was in London because of an attraction to the city’s ‘swinging’ status. I later learn he is gently teasing me. Monguzzi was no doubt enjoying the city, in particular Michelangelo Antonioni’s films at the National Film Theatre, but was in London primarily to learn.

The day after the talk, I meet Monguzzi in his old stomping ground, Central St Martins. The 60-something designer is a charming raconteur, with the grace and confidence that comes from years of experience, but also perhaps from belonging to an older generation, in which creative talent is never short of intellectual curiosity.

The subject of Bailey brings up a humorous story about their first encounter at the School of Printing. ‘He told me I couldn’t attend his lessons since there was no room,’ says Monguzzi. ‘Then he said, “I have nothing to teach you, why don’t you find yourself a job”.’ Unperturbed, Monguzzi returns the day after and finds himself an empty seat in the classroom. Bailey gets on with his lesson and purposely ignores him. When at the end of the day, the students finish their assignment, Bailey does the rounds commenting on it with what Monguzzi describes as ‘constructive criticism’. Yet he skips the young designer’s work and ends the lesson.

Confused, Monguzzi follows Bailey to the room to which he has retired, to prise similar treatment from him. Finally, an exasperated Bailey tells him: ‘You have not understood me. In this lesson I have only underlined the mistakes.’ Eventually, Bailey gives up on Monguzzi’s stubbornness and allows him to attend the lessons. Concerned he may be wasting his time, Bailey offers Monguzzi some paid work and the two collaborate on the International Exhibition of Modern Jewellery 1890- 1961.

Monguzzi himself attributes his discipline to his parents’ conception of the world. From his father, a Marxist economist, he inherited an obsession for perfection, while from his mother, a liberal Catholic, ‘the need for everything to make sense and be understandable’.

Born in Ticino, located south of the Alps, Monguzzi is also faced with the cultural conundrum of many of his fellow inhabitants: too Swiss to be Italian, too Italian to be considered truly Swiss.

On the day of his 20th birthday, Monguzzi flies to Milan, to visit a graphic design studio, Studio Boggeri, which he has read about in Neue Grafik magazine. A trained musician, Antonio Boggeri had entered the print world almost by chance, carving himself a role in art direction at a time when the term was still unheard of. His studio was staffed by the likes of famed Swiss designers Max Huber, Carlo Vivarelli, Walter Ballmer and Aldo Calabresi. At this point Monguzzi is still unsure about his future as a designer and sees this visit as a chance to better understand the industry. ‘When I looked at these rich, non- dogmatic works, I knew there was hope,’ he says.

So although he is now enjoying what he calls ‘semi-retirement’, visiting friends and accepting recognitions around the world, Monguzzi says he still wants to pursue his role as an educator with a series of booklets in which he can pass on his knowledge to future generations. He is concerned about the diffuse ignorance of the past and argues for the relevance of history in design. ‘You need to know how to build a hut before you build a cathedral,’ he says.

Bruno Monguzzi began his talk like a slow fuse, warm yet subdued. He showed us pictures of him as a baby – very cute and Gerberish, – a family picture, a picture of his brother who, according to Bruno, is nothing like him. He defined him childhood geopolitically, born in that peninsula of Switzerland which invades Italy to an Italian Marxist father and a liberal Catholic Swiss mother. He shared with us his disillusionment as a student at l’Ecole des Arts Decoratifs in Geneva when he discovered the absence of a universal language of communication. He spoke of Lissitzky, and shared with us a few influential types from the twenties. Then he took us to London where he studied, in addition to typography, Gestalt psychology, and where he discovered a degree of freedom and embraced the dictum of Lissitzky, “typology should do for the printed word what voice and gestures do for speech.” He took us to Milan where he fell in love with Studdio Boggeri and began his career.

Bruno comments that he also likes Zen and studied it as a youth. And I agree. We are in the presence of two Zen masters and we are having a Zen experience.

Bruno Monguzzi, born 1941 in Mendrisio in southern Switzerland is an former assistant, colleague and finally son-in-law of Antonio Boggeri, founder of one of the most important italian design studios.

The Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design, of which Monguzzi was a student, marked the award with a special presentation of the artist’s work. The event was supported by the Swiss Embassy and the London-based design agency, Jannuzzi Smith.

Monguzzi, who is 62, was born in Mendrisio in the Italian-speaking canton of Ticino.

I was born sixty years ago in Ticino – the most Southern region of Switzerland- where I spent my childhood and where I have come back. My father and my mother were very different from each other – they still were three years ago, when my father died – and my brother was very different from me. He was damned good in everything. I grew up between two conceptions of the world: the protoliberal-catholic vision of my mother, and the vetero-social-marxist creed of my father.

Of course I was a devoted student in school, I acquired good manual ability, I faced many dogmatisms and a few private gospels and I had to discover at my own expense that a graphic design course, even in Switzerland, was not necessarily the crucible of communications. Then I became interested in the process of perception and I continued my studies in London, where I began to understand and to love the American school, and where I found out about Studio Boggeri in the second issueof ‘Neue Grafik’. On my twentieth birthday I flew to Milan. The elevator in Piazza Duse 3 was minuscule, very slow and a bit shaky. During the long ascent to the fifth floor I felt sort of disturbed, a feeling that would last for over two years. I had fallen in love with the man, with his ideas, with the studio and its balcony overlooking the public gardens.

Ten years later – except for Max Huber Mr. Boggeri always complained about the slowness of his Swiss collaborators – I fell in love with Anna, his daughter, and this time my love was not in the least platonic.

I did (with Anna) two very beautiful things. A son called Nicolas in honour of Cassandre who had just committed suicide, and a daughter named Elisa in honour of Hans Werner Henze, whom I had discovered at the time.

Today I live on a hill facing south, I still believe in the axiom ‘form follows function’, and I have fun – within the mandatory rush for new waves – in perpetuating those languages that our fashion system insists in wiping out.