Entertaining news from the world of packaging design. In the United States Tropicana, a part of PepsiCo decided late last year to introduce a new range of packaging for its juices. Out went the traditional design which depicted a highly stylised hand rendered font and an orange with a straw stuck into it.

As the New York Times reported this week:

The PepsiCo Americas Beverages division of PepsiCo is bowing to public demand and scrapping the changes made to a flagship product, Tropicana Pure Premium orange juice. Redesigned packaging that was introduced in early January is being discontinued, executives plan to announce on Monday, and the previous version will be brought back in the next month.

It noted that:

Also returning will be the longtime Tropicana brand symbol, an orange from which a straw protrudes. The symbol, meant to evoke fresh taste, had been supplanted on the new packages by a glass of orange juice.

It’s a rough and rudimentary image (rather than symbol, although it does operate as a symbol), and in order to see its effectiveness consider the following images which provide a comparison between the different versions.

While entirely traditional in look there is a certain sturdy utility to the colour differentiated blocs at the top of the carton indicating which particular version was contained within. The letterforms are shaded horizontally green to black with an orange tint drop shadow. This tint and shaded colour scheme is reiterated in the leaf which serves as the dot on ‘i’ in Tropicana. The letterforms are set on a curved baseline which echoes the shape of the orange placed beneath them. In sum this is a very particular visual formulation which rests in the main upon concepts of freshness and the organic.

The new design discards that for an arguably more subtle design approach. The introduction of clean sans serifs for the name and descriptions all set within a very distinct grid, the use of what appears to be stock photographic imagery of a glass of orange and the relegation of the individualised colours to the tabs at the top of the cartons presents a profoundly modernist imagery. This is crisp, cool and detached. The replacement of the vigorous and perhaps humourous image of the orange with the straw by the glass leads to a coolness, almost a sense of detachment. The individual vigour of original brand is replaced by an essential anonymity leading to a curious paradox. This is formally good design, but it is inappropriate for the product which it attempts to promote. Not least because it moves to rapidly from a long established heritage to an entirely new concept. Which in essence results in this being functionally poor design.

The turn around is on foot of a considerable consumer led campaign to jettison the redesign…

Some of those commenting described the new packaging as “ugly” or “stupid,” and resembling “a generic bargain brand” or a “store brand.”

“Do any of these package-design people actually shop for orange juice?” the writer of one e-mail message asked rhetorically. “Because I do, and the new cartons stink.”

Others described the redesign as making it more difficult to distinguish among the varieties of Tropicana or differentiate Tropicana from other orange juices.

There is, it has to be said, some truth in that charge. Previously across a remarkably varied range of Orange Juices, including versions which were pulpless, Ruby Red, and so forth the visual style adopted was as follows:

A further criticism is that it looks too much like ‘own-brand’ packaging. There is something to that charge too. The uniformity across the range does convey something of that approach. But it is worth noting that in broad terms a lot of ‘own brand’ packaging is now far superior to the visual and conceptually simple solutions of the ‘yellowpacks’, although some companies, such as Tesco continue to use that style for their least expensive ranges.

It’s worth noting that the critical mass behind the protests was in no small part assisted by the use of the internet. The New York Times notes that:

Such attention is becoming increasingly common as interactive technologies enable consumers to rapidly convey opinions to marketers.

“You used to wait to go to the water cooler or a cocktail party to talk over something,” said Richard Laermer, chief executive at RLM Public Relations in New York.

“Now, every minute is a cocktail party,” he added. “You write an e-mail and in an hour, you’ve got a fan base agreeing with you.”

That ability to share brickbats or bouquets with other consumers is important because it facilitates the formation of ad hoc groups, more likely to be listened to than individuals.

“There will always be people complaining, and always be people complaining about the complainers,” said Peter Shankman, a public relations executive who specializes in social media. “But this makes it easier to put us together.”

In some respects such immediate feedback is a tool for product manufacturers and advertisers. Curious as to the response of consumers? There’s little excuse now. However its ability to allow for the proliferation of negatives about, say, a product means that although in some respects there has been an increase in the ability of manufacturers and designers to shape an image, their ability to control that image is lessened and now becomes more dependent upon the response of consumers.

And the response by Neil Campbell, president at Tropicana North America in Chicago, is instructive.

[he] acknowledged that consumers can communicate with marketers “more readily and more quickly” than ever. “For companies that put consumers at the center of what they do,” he said, “it’s a good thing.”

It was not the volume of the outcries that led to the corporate change of heart, Mr. Campbell said, because “it was a fraction of a percent of the people who buy the product.”

Rather, the criticism is being heeded because it came, Mr. Campbell said in a telephone interview on Friday, from some of “our most loyal consumers.”

“We underestimated the deep emotional bond” they had with the original packaging, he added. “Those consumers are very important to us, so we responded.”

As the New York Times reports “Among those who underestimated that bond was Mr. Campbell himself. In an interview last month to discuss the new packaging, he said, “The straw and orange have been there for a long time, but people have not necessarily had a huge connection to them.”

Almost startlingly, Campbell admits that ‘“What we didn’t get was the passion this very loyal small group of consumers have. That wasn’t something that came out in the research’.

One would be forgiven for wanting to get a look at that research.

The response from Arnell, the agency behind the redesign is predictable:

“Tropicana is doing exactly what they should be doing,” Peter Arnell, chairman and chief creative officer at Arnell, said in a separate telephone interview on Friday.

“I’m incredibly surprised by the reaction,” he added, referring to the complaints about his agency’s design work, but “I’m glad Tropicana is getting this kind of attention.”

He can, at least, take away some comfort from the general praise for the Tropicana ad campaign:

Print and outdoor ads that have already appeared will not be changed, [Campbell added], but future elements of the campaign — like commercials, due in March — would be updated.

Unlike the packaging, the campaign has drawn praise, particularly for including in its family imagery several photographs of fathers and children hugging. Such dad-centric images are rare in food ads.

The campaign, which carries the theme “Squeeze it’s a natural”

There is however another twist to this tale. On this side of the Atlantic Tropicana uses an entirely different design, closer in feel to that of the original US version, but distinctly different from it. This was designed by Landor and while incorporating many of the elements of the US design it discards the orange and straw in favour of a more muted, but still visually vibrant, imagery of sliced oranges and other fruit. The brand name is retained in a somewhat modified casual and slightly cartoon like font, albeit a different one to the US version. By contrast with the US cartons the names of the products are rendered in a large but slender serif and instead of a swatch of colour indicating contents the names and the cap are given individualised colours.

It would be interesting to parse out the reasons for the differences between the two styles. Is the original Tropicana image of an orange and a straw considered too literal for European tastes? Or did they wish, in the absence of the full range of ‘orange’ based products to allow for a broader visual identity which could incorporate non-orange juice products? Certainly there is scope for further investigation there.

So where does this leave designers? Those engaged in rebranding exercises will often hear a client ask for something ‘different but similar’. And that intuitive grasp of the necessity to bring consumers with one can necessitate painful compromises at the design level. But this instance appearrs to point to something more. It is difficult not to see this as ultimately heralding a considerable increase in the power of the consumer and in a more engaged fashion than previously. The consumer has often been a silent partner in the process by which designed materials enter the public domain. Although that process has seen clients have considerable, but not quite total, control of the ultimate shape of the visual imagery, now it appears that the consumer is entering the equation, not as a passive player but as an active one demanding some say in the way in which products are presented. That this say appears to be, in this instance if not others, exercised on behalf of the status quo does not diminish the potential for consumers.

Asked if he was chagrined that consumers rejected the changes he believed they wanted, Mr. Campbell replied: “I feel it’s the right thing to do, to innovate as a company. I wouldn’t want to stop innovating as a result of this. At the same time, if consumers are speaking, you have to listen.”

You sure do.

Ciarán Swan

When considering the practice of visual communications it is often useful to understand the theoretical and conceptual basis for it. As is obvious different areas of design and promotion require markedly distinctive approaches. So an interesting piece in the Guardian from last year which reported research conducted in the United Kingdom on the issue of communicating the reality and implications of climate change provides a good insight into such distinctions. Broadly on the central issue of climate change it concluded that:

The government needs to drop “gloomy, miserable and bleak” messages in climate change ads and focus on more positive emotional messages to get the public to change their habits, according to a new report.

This conclusion is to be found in the National Endowment for Science, Technology and the Arts commissioned report “Selling Sustainability: Seven lessons from advertising and marketing to sell low-carbon living” which considers what are the optimal means of communicating the realities of climate change to the public and how that can alter behaviour. As NESTA states on their website:

Climate change is by definition a global problem, but one that requires each nation, each individual to take their share of responsibility – and more importantly, to take action…

Encouraging people to make this move will require expertise and insight from as many relevant fields as possible. In this case, we asked BMRB – one of the leading market research agencies in the UK – Millward Brown, Ogilvy, and The University of Cardiff.

Their insights, into what we can learn about behaviour change from commercial and social advertising and marketing, make this report an unusual but important contribution to the debate around how we respond to climate change.

Together with the insights from our practical programmes around innovation, we hope that these findings form an increasingly powerful combination that will help the UK meet the challenge of low-carbon living.

The summary argues that:

Climate change represents a major threat to human society. Significant social change, alongside technological innovation, is necessary if we are to avert this threat. This will require millions of individuals to change their everyday behaviour, from the power they use at home, to how they travel. If they are to have this kind of impact, the public campaigns that seek to influence individuals need to embrace the most sophisticated approaches and techniques from advertising and marketing – including ‘selling’ the positive opportunities and emotions that could be associated with taking action.

And that:

Policy has not yet fully recognised the importance of mass behaviour change in meeting the climate challenge

In the piece that complemented the report the Guardian asked the question was ‘boredom was setting in’ as regards climate change.

On one level it is hard to believe that a planetary emergency could evince boredom. But the very slow rate at which the effects of climate change are revealed is in and of itself is a significant problem. Simply put if we cannot see the change then we are unlikely to feel strongly about it and certainly not sufficiently so to actually do anything to combat it.

Yet, if this raises potentially contradictory approaches then it is unsurprising that a similar dissonance is evident in the comments of those involved. For example:

Darren Bhattachary, a director at the British Market Research Bureau, which was commissioned by Nesta to undertake the wide-ranging advertising study, said: “Climate change is often portrayed as problematic and negative and many campaigns miss the mark by pushing rational measures, like scary percentages and scientific messages, instead of an emotional message.

“It has been shown that if you employ both methods then the success on behaviour change is hugely increased.”

It is hard at this remove to see what is unemotive about ’scary percentages’. Then intriguingly the examples proffered of more suitable advertising appear to operate in a completely different fashion.

Nesta’s report highlights TV ad campaigns such as Honda’s upbeat animated Diesel engine, which uses the catchy jingle “Hate something, change something”, as an example of how to push an effective message about environmental change.

The fact that selling a car is somewhat different than warning about climate change would appear to be central, and the report does note this. As it states:

Climate change communications differ from the more typical private sector marketing programme in several ways. Perhaps the most fundamental is the nature of the benefit to the individual. Acting on climate change is uncertain, social, long-term and intangible. It also provokes some ‘hair shirt’ expectations, where most marketing promises us greater utility of one sort or another. It is also harder clearly to identify what is being advertised. In campaigns for branded goods and services, this is relatively straightforward. However, less tangible categories such as social goods present particular challenges, in particular, the definition of what it is we want people to identify might not be obvious.

It then gives as examples of useful campaigns in similar vein a Drink Drive Campaign in Northern Ireland and a Home Office Crime Prevention campaign in the UK. With the latter…

The creative idea was to see things from the criminal’s point of view. This had the effect of humanising the criminal, making him less threatening. At the same time, it reinforced the audience’s indignation by showing the disregard with which he treated other people’s belongings. The campaign line was: ‘Don’t give them an easy ride.’ During the campaign, vehicle crime reduced more than 37 per cent. While a variety of factors influenced the overall reduction, evidence suggests that communications made a significant contribution.
The campaign was deemed to be so successful at changing consumer attitudes and behaviour towards vehicle crime that the communications task has since been broadened to include robbery and burglary.

And from this the conclusion is that:

As with commercial campaigns, it is important to say something new While recognition levels are linked to exposure, other factors also play their part. Ads which capture people’s attention and imagination, which they enjoy or which say something new, tend to fare better than one might expect given the level of exposure.

It also notes that the media context where in the past…

…public sector campaigns have benefited from a lack of competitors, making it easier to stand out. However as social marketing grows and the number of campaigns increases, this advantage is diminishing.

Certainly, as has already been noted previously on this site, there is an enormously competitive social marketing environment extant and this is likely to increase for both political and socio-economic reasons over the next decade.

Shifting away from the central concern of climate change Appendix 1 of the report is worthy of consideration. It examines “Some conceptual differences between social and commercial marketing” and reworks the “Four P’s” of commercial marketing – product, price, place/distribution and promotion – into a social context. So it is that products are replaced by propositions.

…with climate change, propositions already being put to consumers include: ‘wash clothes at 30°’, ‘recycle’ or ‘don’t leave appliances on standby’. Embedded within virtually all these propositions is a specific behaviour or set of behaviours that the social marketer wants individuals to adopt and continue. One simple proposition that has been the focus of social marketing campaigns in countries including Australia, Denmark and Canada is that ‘cycling (or walking) instead of driving is good for you and good for the planet’. Such campaigns seek to move people away from an energy-intensive form of consumption, to more sustainable behaviour that meets the same need.

Place is reshaped as accessibility, since ’social marketing is not generally based around physical products [and] ‘distribution’ or ‘place’ issues become less relevant’. Curiously, and as noted in the report, this shifts us back towards some commercial marketing in that ’social marketing is more like services marketing’. The report suggests that

…in the context of promoting climate-aware behaviour, access to alternatives is important, whether to alternative means of achieving satisfaction (such as more convenient public transport) or information or expertise that helps to reduce CO2 emissions.

Price becomes ‘Costs of involvement’. In other words, ‘the costs of changing behaviour are not generally financial (although a financial cost could be involved). Costs are more likely to involve time and effort, or overcoming psychological barrier to change’. The example given is:

So when encouraging people to cycle rather than drive, this could be achieved by raising the costs of driving through congestion charging or parking restrictions. It could also be achieved by providing incentives that reduce the financial or psychological costs involved in cycling.

Finally promotion is replaced by ‘Social communication’. It argues that “just as commercial marketers communicate to promote the trial, adoption, identification with and regular purchase of their products, social marketers communicate to promote the acceptance, adoption and maintenance of a particular social proposition or behaviour”. This is exemplified by:

To complete cycling promotion examples, the Århus Bike Bus’ters used many conventional marketing communication tools including flyers, a launch event and a regular magazine for participants. But less conventionally, and more interactively, participants were asked to sign a contract, which committed them to reduce their car use as much as possible and to cycle or use public transport instead.

To a degree the low level of the examples given indicate just how novel this specific area is. There have been many examples of previous state-sponsored health campaigns, but those could be seen as having very clear end goals, and the report itself discusses health education campaigns such as those targeted towards cutting cigarette consumption. The very nature of climate change, something that impinges on all areas of human activity, is such that tackling it in a comprehensive manner, and communicating that in campaigns is extremely difficult.

This generates a paradox, for as the report notes…while some current campaigns have focused on small, realistic actions (turning off appliances when they are not in use, driving more smoothly to use less fuel, recycling cans), there may be some scepticism about whether such actions will really have a larger impact.

And consequently:

A major challenge is then for climate change campaigns to empower people to take actions to address the issue at hand, in the same way that the vehicle crime campaign cited in Section 3 moved people from seeing car crime as a necessary evil beyond their control, to something for which they could take responsibility.

And the final paragraph of the report encapsulates the problem succinctly.

Moving to a low-carbon society and economy will require a broader commitment for social and technological change, supported and driven by a clear policy framework. This will require far stronger linkages between, for example, energy policy and innovation policy, and a more active management of energy markets – both of which challenge the policy status quo

The goal of future campaigns must be to tie these disparate and often conflicting strands together in a manner which is effective and communicates both the enormity of the problems faced as well as a clear practical means to tackle them. It seems, from the report, that the hope is that the use of ‘emotionally positive’ messages will be one way forward. Whether that is an effective strategy in the context of economic and financial slowdown remains to be seen.

But the true utility of this document is that it very clearly outlines the sharply distinctive requirements of social campaigns and the contrasts between them and commercial campaigns. That is in itself of considerable value to anyone interested in this particular area.

Ciarán Swan

A brief post to thank those of you who have visited the DRG website over 2008. With a Conference completed earlier in the year and a book published in association with the DRG this Autumn it has been a remarkably busy year for all of us and unfortunately the frequency of posting has suffered consequently. That said it has also been a fascinating year in terms of design and visual communications and it is hoped to consider aspects of this in some detail soon on this site.

There is an open invitation for contributions to this website in the form of short or long pieces on aspects of the areas that are of direct interest to the work and research of the DRG. If you wish to submit such material please contact us at swanc (AT) ncad.ie (apologies for mangling that in order to defeat spam). It is our intention to put in place a review mechanism for such contributions in 2009.

As regards the broader activities of the DRG there are already plans being made for events in the New Year. Be assured they will be flagged up with plenty of notice.

And so it only remains to wish you all a very happy New Year.

Ciarán Swan

The DRG is very pleased to announce the forthcoming launch on December 11th of:

3 Guys and a Bookcase: Red&Grey Design 2003-2008

This is a project separate to the DRG but initiated by some of our members. It is published by The Lilliput Press and Red&Grey Design.

The book provides an overview of the Dublin based design agency Red&Gray Design of which Bob Gray is a founder member. Written in an entertaining and informative style it examines their history and work, considers their influences and describes the processes involved in creating contemporary commercial design work. In essence it is an account of how one company was established and has prospered in an highly competitive industry.

The book will be of interest to Irish and international designers, design students and academics and a general readership interested in both the practice and theory of contemporary design.

As far as we are aware this is the first book of its kind produced by an Irish design company. As such in a market where there are already regular lectures, meetings and conferences of the Irish design community and a long-running annual Design Week it is, we think, a useful step forward.

Bob Gray, Keith McGuiness, Richard Weld-Moore, Rachel Breslin and Ciarán Swan worked closely during the last year to bring the book to fruition. But don’t take our word for it. You can visit the book website to see sample pages and place orders. To order, visit 3 Guys and A Bookcase here [site operative from November 21st 2008].

3 Guys and a Bookcase: Red&Grey Design 2003-2008
First published 2009 by Red&Gray Design and the Lilliput Press in association with the Design Research Group.
ISBN 978 1 84351 152 6

For review copies please use the email at the 3 Guys and A Bookcase site.

One of the more interesting aspects of the US Presidential Election in terms of visual imagery and identity was a small controversy that developed over the depiction of Sarah Palin on the cover of Newsweek last month.

As noted on political and current events website Slate.com

The photo is clearly untouched: stray eyebrow hair, large pores, and wrinkles are all visible on her face. The headline reads “She’s One of The Folks (And that’s the problem).”

But the outrage isn’t about the headline at all; it’s about the photo. When did untouched become “unfair,” as a Republican media consultant claims during the segment? And when did it become a requirement to retouch photos in news magazines rather than fashion ones?

The response from Republicans was unequivocal…

[A campaign] consultant went on to claim that the photo was “mortifying.”

It may well be so, although to my eye it provided a strong and not unflattering image which operated on the level of a representation as much as a caricature. The faux-realism of the image, ’stray eyebrow hair, large pores and wrinkles’ and all is hardly inaccurate, or at least not markedly so than the highly finished sheen of most campaign photography. It is in those terms as positive or negative as all such imagery – Palin is, it should be noted, highly telegenic with a very distinctive visual identity that has operated in such a way as to make her an iconic figure for the Republican party. It is perhaps best described as a construct and one which is dependent upon the reading of the individual viewer for meaning.

An interesting exercise is to contrast it to the visual imagery that developed around Mary Robinson when she contested the Irish Presidency in 1990.

The Robinson campaign, atypically for one originating on the centre-left at that time, was willing to utilise promotional techniques which had hitherto been largely the preserve of the centre-right. The image of Robinson at the start of the campaign reflected her as the former politician, academic and barrister that she was. The reworked image sought to portray her in a more personality-led visual context. For example, Irish fashion photographer, Mike Bunn was employed to take promotional photographs including the one used on the campaign poster. Robinson also restyled her hair and clothing (for more on this see here).

In an ironic contrast to the Palin photograph the complaint was that Robinson had in some sense generated an ‘artificial’ imagery. Most famously this critique was made by Fianna Fáil Minister Padraig Flynn when he suggested that “…none of those who knew Mary Robinson very well in previous incarnations…” would recognise this new version.

So here we see a directly opposite dynamic to that of Palin. For Padraig Flynn the imagery of Mary Robinson was an artificial construct which did not represent her political and – arguably – actual ‘reality’. For the unnamed Republican campaign consultant the ‘mortifying’ insult is in the lack of artificiality of the Palin image.

Inevitably any image of a candidate is going to embody referents, both positive and negative, and much may depend upon the political stance of the viewer. And that is why the supposed ‘artificiality’ of Robinson, and the supposed ‘untouched’ aspect of the Palin photograph raise such emotion and dissent. That it can operate in such seemingly contradictory ways is testament to the enduring power of imagery in political contests, as well as the propensity for political adversaries and allies to use that power to their own ends – not only through design but also through interpretation.

And to repeat the point made earlier, the reality that all images are constructs is evaded by both. The controversies overshadow a larger indifference, or plain good sense, on the part of the public to assimilate such imagery without being overly worried about its provenance. Moreover it is important not to exaggerate the power of such imagery. Barthes concept of ‘mythic speech’ is enormously powerful as a methodological tool and its applicability to imagery such as this is undeniable. Palin has become a uniquely potent signifier of a brand of US Republicanism. Her visual image is a crucial part of a ‘mythic’ narrative.

Ellen Lupton and J. Abbot Miller in Design Writing and Research argued that while:

An audience can recognize ‘mythic speech’ as ideological… recognition does not necessarily defuse the power of the myth. We can consume stereotypes and clichés knowingly, but this knowledge does not preclude the ability of such images to shape beliefs’.

The problem here is that we live in a media environment where there is a multiplicity of images that seek to shape belief. And the power of the individual image is – inevitably – lessened by the overwhelming volume. So, even if it were true that the Palin image was regarded as uniquely negative – a highly questionable assertion – it would only be one amongst many many others with a consequent power or authority. Furthermore given the clear pre-dominance of television as the major channel of political communication in the US Election, and note how Barack Obama purchased an half hour of television time in the final days of the campaign, the reach of the Newsweek cover would be limited.

This is not to say that it would have no influence our perception of Palin. A series of television interviews she conducted over the campaign generated a sense of a candidate not quite ready for the rigours of the US Presidency. And the Newsweek image could feed into that, albeit at a low level. Yet it was only one of many images both supportive or otherwise of the candidate. Even the Mary Robinson campaign image, which had a far greater ubiquity in the context of the Irish Presidential campaign than the Newsweek cover would in the US campaign, would be highly unlikely to have a pivotal influence. At best it could only be one amongst many, although its centrality as the image chosen by her campaign would make it potentially the most important image of the campaign.

So it may well be time to rework our approaches to the concept of ‘mythic speech’ and recognise that it has clear limitations, not merely in terms of the ability of audiences to read it in a more critical fashion than Barthes originally proposed but also in terms of the diminishing power of the imagery associated with it in a wildly pluralistic visual environment.

After all, if everyone is speaking at the same time what exactly do we hear?

Slate online recently had a good piece about the new Google web browser, Chrome. In itself it is a fascinating example of how functionality is being focussed in single applications or suites. We see something analogous in Microsoft Office and CS3. There it is suites of applications that attempt under a single title to deliver as comprehensive a solution as is feasible in their respective areas. With Google Chrome the situation is a little different, but not entirely. By tying a browser and a search engine together under the Google brand the user is pointed towards an all encompassing Google surfing ‘experience’.

Whether it works is an interesting question. For those of us who use Safari or Firefox, as I do on a daily basis, the Google search field on the toolbar is now an essential component. But would I step from those two applications to Chrome? I’m dubious that I would – and I’m not likely to any time soon since they have yet to deliver a Mac compatible version. In any event it is not as if there isn’t already considerable competition in the area. As Farhad Manjoo writes in Slate:

This new piece of software enters a crowded field of browsers looking for your love. Microsoft will soon offer the final revision of Internet Explorer 8, which is currently in beta release. (Both Chrome and IE 8 run only on Windows, though Google says it’s creating versions for other platforms.) In June, Mozilla put out Version 3 of its popular open-source, cross-platform Firefox browser, and Version 3.1 is available in beta. The Norwegian software company Opera also recently released its latest eponymous, innovative, cult-hit browser. And Apple is now working on Version 4 of Safari for Mac and Windows.

That it is so crowded is unsurprising. Each offers essentially the same functionality but come from different roots. Firefox is open source, Microsoft and Apple have their own bespoke browsers. Smaller companies and corporations offer theirs. It’s not difficult to see this as an existential battle between large corporations, or at least a part of their broader struggles writ large.

For Google, Microsoft, and Apple, the browser fight is a means to other ends. Microsoft, which holds more than three-quarters of the browser market, looks at the Web as an extension of its operating system. As more of our programs move online, Microsoft fears that we might have little reason to stick to Windows; it sees control of the browser as a way to control the future of software development. Google seems to want to be in the browser business to fight Microsoft. The company’s revenue comes entirely from the Web, so it’s got to be wary that most of its customers come through software created by its main rival. (Google substantially underwrites both Firefox and Opera, which both feature Google’s search engine as the default.) Apple, meanwhile, needs a browser to beef up its own platform—not only on the Mac but also on its phones and iPods.

The latter point is of some significance. Apple has been remarkably astute at maintaining a strong grip on the software used on its communications devices. That they function well is almost a given, that they leave little or no space for competitors is self-evident. And the sheer visibility of these in the public space, perhaps even more so than their competitors such as Google and Microsoft gives them a key advantage in the future. The much critiqued ‘halo effect’ around Apple continues to seemingly extend itself.

And it is not as if they’re without faults. As Manjoo notes:

…the world desperately needs a better Web browser. For at least four years, Firefox has been the gold standard among techies; I’ve been using it as my primary browser for at least that long. For a while, I loved it. I appreciated its smart, clean user interface, its tabs and keyboard shortcuts, and most of all—Firefox’s killer feature—its ability to run a smorgasbord of useful third-party add-ons. But Firefox is hobbled by a couple of major flaws. It hogs system resources: Use it for a while, and it eats up huge swaths of your computer’s memory, eventually becoming as slow as the Web browser on your iPhone. Firefox is also prone to crashing: Load up an errant Web page, and you risk bringing the program to a halt. (This problem makes session-recovery add-ons like Tabs Mix Plus essential.)

So it’s not that Firefox, Safari (or indeed Internet Explorer which I haven’t used in years on any regular basis for various reasons) or A.N. Other are particularly bad at what they do. Indeed to paraphrase Barack Obama speaking in a somewhat different context, they’re good enough. But not quite there yet.

That said, the gains from new applications are largely marginal, at least in this field. Manjoo believes that Chrome is less likely to crash. That’s probably true, but one wonders how it will fare in six months or a year.

While on this topic it is worth noting the manner in which Google sought to explain the new browser. They took a fairly innovative approach in asking cartoonist Scott McCloud to illustrate a 38 page book on the features of the application.

McCloud is an ideal person to complete this task. His interaction with the web has been considerable over the years from producing webcomics to experimenting with visual forms that are only possible in a flexible online medium. A visit to his website indicates his free-flowing approach to visual imagery in that context.

It’s a fine piece of work, as one might expect. McCloud has a clean explicatory style of illustration that generously uses white space and subtle tones of gray and blue to underline the content. His characters are rendered in a representational but clearly cartoon-like style that softens them. The overall approach is entirely suitable for a document which seeks to explain the interior processes of a web browser – and does so in a clever and creative way. What is striking is that nowhere in it is the Google logo, a visual device which has gained near iconic significance, and it is possible to raise some questions as to the integration of the new Google Chrome logo, a not particularly exciting three dimensional formulation of blue, red, yellow and green.

As an ironic postscript, I’m finding accessing Google on a work computer I use almost impossible. The following message appears every time I initiate a search…

We’re sorry… but your query looks similar to automated requests from a computer virus or spyware application. To protect our users, we can’t process your request right now.

I’ll bet if I checked out the Google Chrome comic it might explain everything…

Ciarán Swan

There is an interesting paradox at the heart of the new Amnesty International ‘global identity’ which appeared this year. For such an high-profile organisation there is remarkably little information about it available on the web either. Indeed it was only when reading the magazine of Amnesty’s Irish Section that I came upon an article which discussed it in any detail.

And that article is a fascinating insight into the rationale for a global identity and the approach taken to develop it.

It starts with the truism that:

The average urban western citizen is exposed to 50,000 advertising messages per day. We simply cannot take in all this information and unconsciously filter messages that we don’t think are relevant. We end up ignoring the less distinct and less repeated.

Here’s an interesting fact. Michael Johnson in his useful Problem Solved: A primer in Design and Communication (Phaidon, 2002) wrote that:

It’s claimed that we are all subjected to thousands of marketing messages a day. Can you remember even a hundred of the ones you received today? Probably not. Why not? Because we’ve trained ourselves to filter out all bar the absolutely essential. Pity, then, the designer or communicator charged with getting information over in a way that the public will absorb, not ignore.

That his comments and those of Amnesty are a truism is self-evident. That the language is near-identical perhaps points to the centrality of the problem. Because the necessity to convey specific information in an message-saturated environment is crucial to the success or failure of visual identities.

But this is then localised in the specific.

Amnesty International has 80 different sections and structures throughout the world. The majority of them use some local variation of the name and candle. That’s a lot of imagery coming from just one organisation. We don’t want to be uniform – but we do want to be unified.

Amnesty International is unique. We expose injustice. We create a sense of outrage. And we act to liberate people from injustice with a sense of hope. This is the spirit of our new Global Identity. Everything we create should combine a feeling of outrage with a feeling of hope.

It is notable that hitherto Amnesty has ceded considerable latitude to national sections and structures to implement their own approach to a visual identity. This is hardly surprising, the organisation developed in an essentially ad hoc fashion over a many decades. It’s also probable that it sought to avoid an overt visual professionalism early on, an attitude that was for a considerable period of time reflected in many organisations in the voluntary and charity sectors, and indeed left-leaning organisations more generally. Indeed it is fascinating to reflect on how that attitude is now all but gone in a world where the necessity to communicate messages as directly and clearly as possible is paramount – a necessity underlined in the opening sentence.

The process by which Amnesty International arrived at the new identity is detailed with some clarity.

From December 10 2008 the Irish Section will fully adopt the new Global Identity. We’ll be joining the International Secretariat and a number of other sections who’ve already done so and by 2011 every section and structure within Amnesty will be using it too.

Members led the way on this decision. The debate began almost ten years ago at the International Council Meeting; the ulitmate member led decision-making body of the movement. The identity has been under development since 2005 and was agreed by the movement’s Executive with a mandate from the membership every step along the way.

It is telling that the introduction of a ‘global identity’ is taking place over four years and that this is the culmination of a process already ten years old. The decentralised, near-autonomous, nature of the organisation requires this sort of gradualist approach. This is very different to commercial identity campaigns where timescales are generally much shorter and implementation is usually simultaneous (although that said differentiation of brand and identity in local markets is not unknown, as a journey to different supermarkets will demonstrate).

That said Amnesty is fortunate to have a genuinely iconic visual signifier. As the document continues:

The candle symbol combines the barbed wire of oppression with the light of hope. It is a hugely powerful icon for Amnesty International, recognized by millions of people around the world.

Yellow is an attention-grabbing colour. Yellow is the colour of urgency, and also the colour of hope. Yellow always stands out.

The Yellow panel as well as carrying the name and candle is also used as call to action by placing it on top of an image. It covers up part of the image and by doing so shows dramatically that something is wrong or missing, that we have something urgent and important to say or do. Something that cannot wait. Like this.

The yellow panel carries a short sharp headline, which tells the truth with a feeling of outrage. The panel can also include the campaign name so there will be a common theme for all campaigns. We will also use yellow to highlight important content in reports or to alert people to good news.

Indeed the simplicity of the solution is immediately apparent. The iconic candle and barbed wire symbol printed in black upon yellow field is strengthened by the visual separation from the text, which is ranged left or right depending upon the language being used. The selection of yellow as the colour is particularly adept. The visual significations of yellow and black imply attention and are used in industrial contexts for precisely that reason. This is allows for a sense of danger or attention, of work and energy. The selection of a strong condensed sans serif face, apparently a Univers, adds to this imagery of seriousness.

It’s interesting to note that precisely this approach was used in a radically different context by Peter Saville when producing imagery for Factory Records, and perhaps most obviously the FAC1 poster. This dependence upon a visual lexicon utilised by industry, and in particular the BSI work-site hazard warning signs, translated almost seamlessly into the context of visual imagery for entertainment. Indeed it was precisely by retaining the original concepts that the material became so distinctive. The significations were both humourous and serious, humourous in the sense that they generated a visual pun, but serious in the sense that this was considered an aestheticisation of the original imagery, not merely a parody of it, something that was evident in later work for Factory.

And a similar process is evident in the Amnesty International identity.

This is visually as far as one could imagine from most commercial identities. As the document notes the visuals cohere into an identity so that:

No matter where you come from or where you happen to be you will be able to instantly recognise Amnesty International.

Nor is it entirely static. There is scope for some degree of flexibility.

A concise set of guidelines has been drawn up and everyone throughout the world will adhere to them. The guidelines plus artwork will be sent to all the local Groups before the Irish Section changes over in December.

While the guidelines are rigid for print and web, the possibilities for using the yellow panel in campaigning activities are endless. We can paint yellow squares and banners, use post it notes and other iconic yellow items, print on yellow paper, colour things in. Yellow should become synonymous with outrage, with hope, and with Amnesty International. With every section of Amnesty International throughout the world using the global brand, our yellow will become instantly recognisable.

This approach makes sense for an essentially volunteerist organisation. It engenders a sense of ‘ownership’ amongst members while subtly directing them towards unified visual solutions that should – if implemented appropriately – result in an heightened profile for the organisation. And legibility, both conceptual and visual, is at the heart of this new identity.

We need to be very clear about what we are saying. Our images will do that, and so will the words we use. In order to change people’s minds our writing needs to be”

- Readable, or people will ignore it.

- Authoritative, or people will dismiss it.

- Impassioned, or people won’t act on it.

One can see the applicability of these thoughts to many other design and visual communication contexts. And the key sentence in the above, the one which reaches into the heart of Amnesty’s self-perception is:

We don’t want to be uniform – but we do want to be unified.

The necessity for visual cohesion must, of necessity, elide other meanings by superimposing upon them a small number of basic concepts that are rendered with almost an hyper-clarity. But by reworking and repositioning their previous identity in such a rational way they have updated it without losing its original power. It is notable that the explanations for this are so transparent. Yet, again, that is presumably a necessity in an organisation which prides itself on being open and democratic in its approach. Despite the idiosyncrasies implicit in such a project this certainly provides an example of how to engage with the stakeholders in an identity programme. A lesson that could usefully be applied to many more organisations both public and commercial.

However, it is also important to note an aspect of the identity which Michael Johnson refers to in his book, referenced above. He notes that when the World Wildlife Fund sought a reworking of their identity, and in particular that of their “40-year-old panda symbol” they went to North American identity specialist Landor.

…this was not a radical redesign of the Panda, just an exercise in rationalizing the many version of the mark in existence, and applying it consistently across the globe.

Somewhat cynically he adds.

Of course, at their next credentials presentation, the agency will have been able to show the Panda mark, discuss the project and bask in a little reflected glory.

Yet it is true that the visual capital that Amnesty International already possessed was sufficient to allow for a very similar process to that described for the World Wildlife Fund. To reposition the logo, however adeptly is a task of a different magnitude from an entirely new identity. Given that caveat though it remains a thoughtful reworking of an already extant and well-known visual identity.

Ciarán Swan

Belfast city has a new logo, part of a 12-month re-branding overseen by Belfast City Council.

According to the Irish Times:

THE NEW Belfast now comes in six colours. Blue, grey, maroon, fuchsia, lime and aqua. It also has its own “bespoke” typeface (called Moment) and a range of adaptable taglines.

The heart-shaped design also doubles as the letter B, allowing a series of promotional slogans such as “B here now”, “B vibrant” and “B dynamic+”. According to the London-based branding agency that designed the new logo, Belfast’s new corporate identity is “simple and flexible (and) succeeds in reflecting the edgier side of Belfast”.

The Sunday Business Post indicates that the logo was designed by:

Lloyd Northover [who were] appointed to the consultancy position in June [2007]. It spent 12 months researching the perception of Belfast in current social, economic, physical, political and cultural terms, and how the city wanted to be perceived with regard to those areas in the future. Primary research and consultation was undertaken with representatives from the arts, business, development, culture, tourism, media, education and sport communities.

The logo is crisp in execution and very simple in concept. The curvilinear sans serif of the Moment typeface is determinedly modernist in tone and works well in large scale. Whether it is too simple is an interesting question. Certainly it is not visually positioned within any obvious referents to Belfast, and the emphasis on the heart, already simultaneously a classic and cliche of visual imagery relating to cities (as with Milton Glaser’s iconic “I Love New York” logo from 1977), is arguably problematic.

Whether it does reflect an ‘edgier side of Belfast’ is open to question. The use of the heart as the symbol with its overt connotations of love and affection seem to do anything but link into an ‘edgy’ visual discourse.

As notable is the choice of colours for the logo. Blue, grey, maroon, fuchsia, lime and aqua are demonstrably detached from any political, or pre-existing municipal, connotations. That is, one presumes, quite deliberate. Branding Belfast requires a near-herculean effort to break the visual chains of an overly familiar past in order to present a neater less complicated construct for the future.

And that simplification, on both a design and ‘mythic’ level is certainly evident in the new logo. That it could apply to Barcelona or to Bogota is not in any sense to criticise it, for its function is to transcend previous meanings and introduce more ameliorative – albeit more anonymous – contemporary concepts.

But, this essential universality is reinforced by a news report in the Guardian from today (31st of July 2008) which notes that:

The troubled history of local council logos has thrown up another spat after rival authorities managed to end up with exactly the same clever piece of design based on one letter.

Both highlighting the letter B, the promotion campaigns of the north-west of England towns Barrow-in-Furness and Blackburn use an identical twist on the letter, tilting it slightly and extending its bottom bulge to form a heart.

And not merely are the logos identical to one another but conceptually identical to the Belfast logo. Bar stylistic aspects, such as the border around the two logos and a slightly different proportion as regards the shape of the heart, these are clearly derived from the same design root. They appeared in public in Barrow in March and Blackburn in May.

And then there is the issue of slogans that accompany the logos.

Barrow’s artwork is a romantic – and anatomically accurate – pink design that sits above the slogan “Love Barrow”. It was unveiled in March. Just over two months later Blackburn announced its version, a design that gives the town’s name beneath a B, coloured lime green.

For Belfast a similar process has occurred with various suggested tag lines such as “Be here now”, surely the only instance in tourist history where a city has borrowed from an Oasis song in order to promote itself, or the “B happy” on the tee-shirt in the illustration above. Interestingly these reference emotions, not a sense of place as with the Barrow logo. Not for the Belfast logo any sense of the Falls Road, or Short Strand, or the docks or City Hall itself in all its dour Northern English municipal grandeur. There is, it must be admitted, more than a hint of the rapidly developing Belfast of the peace process, the anonymity of apartment blocks and commercial development. And perhaps in that sense it succeeds more than it fails.

As to the ramifications, if any, should Belfast, Barrow or Blackburn decide to consider taking action over this excessive proliferation of Bs:

Robin Fry, a copyright lawyer with Beechcroft in London, said that a £200 trademark might protect the B, but the council registering it would have to show the likelihood of confusion. “This would be difficult as Barrow-in-Furness is a port and the gateway to the Lakes, while Blackburn is 20 miles inland.”

Considering that the Sunday Business Post quotes a price of £180,000 sterling, Blackburn Council might well feel that the price tag of £60,000 sterling was a snip at less than half the price. And they might also take comfort that Belfast, being on a different island, might well have even greater difficulty in protecting its investment if the analysis presented by Robert Fry is correct.

By contrast consider an earlier, if less lauded, visual solution used by the city. Many of the same concepts are present, but the execution is more hesitant and less certain. It is probably wrong to suggest that the use of a smile falters in comparison to the dogmatic conceptual thrust of the heart shape in the new design, but in terms of sheer visual and emotional power it is enfeebled by the comparison. And while the B as heart is in its own way is forced, the lower case serif F trailing off into a smile is more so, a distortion of the letterform rather than an enhancement. The two ovals representing eyes are adrift from both text and smile. Again, this logo utilises a simplification so that the contradictions and paradoxes of the actual city of Belfast are smoothed away, but this is a purely municipal imagery whereas the newer logo has a modernist anonymity which could be that of a city or that of a car.

These logos, and their counterparts in New York, or Barcelona, are means to an end. They avoid referencing the actual city and instead position themselves as vehicles of the ‘tourist experience’. They cover the souvenirs, the plastic shopping bags, shops and museums and generate a sense of the city as consumable and in doing so they detach the city from its reality. The experience is all. And because the experience is – in so many respects – so similar is it any wonder that three entirely different locations should chance upon a near-identical visual solution?

Ciarán Swan

It is unusual for the Irish Times to cover matters of design or typography, but last week they had an article under the headline German alphabet makes room for a new letter of the law.

Their correspondent, Derek Scally, reported from Berlin on how ‘an addition to the German alphabet emerged blinking into the daylight after a campaign lasting 130 years – to a hail of indifference’.

He continued:

The nervous debutante is the big sister of the letter ß. Known in German as the ” eszett ” or “sharp s”, the ß is the bane of German language students, who encounter it in their very first lesson when they try to say their name: ” Ich heiße Derek .” The only consolation was that the ß didn’t have a capital version, meaning that it could be dispensed with in headlines, signs or any place where letters attract attention.

He noted:

It comes to us thanks to the German Norms Institute (DIN), the people who brought us the paper size standards A4, A3 and so on. They proposed a capital ß to the International Organisation for Standardisation and, on Monday, the letter became standard – with ISO 10646.

DIN says the ß has an active lobby group but declines to name its powerful friends. The German standards organisation is anxious to disassociate itself from the capital ß, seeing its role more as midwife than mother.

“It’s not about forcing people to use the letter. Our priority was to establish a standard to make it mechanically possible to use,” says Roman Grahle of DIN. “Whether it will be used or not is another matter.”

There are practical problems.

On the current German keyboard, ß shares a key with “?” but that flat share might have to end now that ß has a big sister.

Leading keyboard manufacturer Cherry says it is already working on a solution. It hasn’t ruled out another “€” solution, forcing the capital ß to camp out on another letter’s key.

The capital ß faces another technical hurdle: convincing font designers to come up with a capital ß for their particular design family of letters. That’s why the new letter can’t even appear in this article.

And there appears to be a less than whole-hearted welcome from the German language lobby:

“We are not responsible for letters, but for keeping an eye on spelling and to make sure rules are followed,” says Dr Kerstin Günter of the German Language Council.

“Whether there is a need for this letter is a question that remained unanswered for centuries. It’s likely to remain that way for a while to come.”

Now compare and contrast this, which is – essentially – colour story, with the following from The Local, a German news website:

The German alphabet is getting a new letter, the International Organization for Standardization (ISO) confirmed on Wednesday.

Until now, the letter “ß,” called the “Eszett,” has only been a lower-case figure, forcing typographers to find creative ways [to render] the letter in advertisements and street signs where words are all capitalized, for example.

But the big “ß,” which makes a double “s” sound phonetically, is now anchored in the international character set number ISO-10646 and Unicode 5.1.

The new big “ß,” used in words like Spaß, (fun), has often been written as “SS” in all-caps situations, but there has been discussion for some 130 years about creating a capitalized version.

The official German Rechtschreibung spelling and grammar rules won’t be affected by the change, though. The council in charge of determining these rules, Rat für deutsche Rechtschreibung told news agency DPA, that “ß” will continue to be written as “SS,” and said they don’t plan a language reform for the new letter. However: “The people will decide whether they want to use it,” council head Kerstin Güthert told DPA.

Whether, and how, the new character will be integrated on German computer keyboards remains unclear.

It is treated as an informational piece and in the accompanying image, which is reproduced here, examples are given of the new letter. Reading the Irish Times article one is given the impression that this is an essentially unwanted and quixotic move by unnamed groups. But note that by contrast The Local article points to the status quo ante ‘forcing typographers to find creative ways [to render] the letter in advertisements and street signs where words are all capitalized, for example’.

Wikipedia notes that for the ’sharp s’:

Also, the es-zett or scharfes S (ß) is used. It exists only in a lowercase version since it can never occur at the beginning of a word (there are a few loan words starting with an s followed by a z (e.g. Szegediner Krautfleisch but that is not the same as the es-zett which counts as one letter).

In all caps it is converted to SS, while in Switzerland ß is not used at all, but ss instead. This gives rise to ambiguities, albeit extremely rarely; the most commonly cited such case is that of “in Maßen” (in moderation) vs. in Massen (en masse). For all caps usage, an uppercase ß had been postulated since 1879 and was officially introduced in 2008 into Unicode 5.1 as U+1E9E (HTML: ẞ), although a definite form hasn’t been found yet.

So while not a matter of the utmost urgency it does have a relevance to actual design problems.

That this move also has significant economic implications is glossed over in an attempt to be humorous. Firstly there is the necessity to rework alphabets to incorporate the new letter, a process that while far from difficult will take time. Secondly there is the ‘integration on German computer keyboards’ that will be a corollary of any such incorporation. Again, that too will take time. Even today well over half a decade since the introduction of the euro the integration of that character on keyboards and, more importantly, software is remarkably inconsistent. So whatever decision is taken ultimately about the implementation of this it seems likely that it will remain a source of contention to some degree for some years to come. But this is hardly unexpected. Language and alphabets have an organic vitality about them as they change through custom and usage. The illusion that they are static is just that, an illusion. And herein lies a paradox, because this attempt to provide a ’solution’ for the “sharp s” ß is in itself both a bid to provide what Quentin Newark has described as ‘a rationalisation…fulled by the modernist drive for universality’ and a means of – in the short to medium term – producing a chaotic disruption to the already prevailing rationalisations. It is not quite a typographic example of the concept ‘that in order to save the village we had to destroy it’, indeed a better case could be made for the idea that ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’. But it does demonstrate the effective truth that Ferdinand Saussare pointed to (and that Newark restates) when he argued that shape of letters and the sounds they represent are locked in an entirely arbitrary relationship. And without question this relationship expands to encompass the use and application of those letter forms.

And with those thoughts in mind, isn’t it reasonable to point at the underlying narrative in the Irish Times article? In this instance, as with other examples, this narrative proposes that design is essentially a frivolous endeavour only of interest when it has a clear cut economic or humorous element. Surely this diminishes consideration of these matters and does design and design issues a significant disservice.

Who was Barney Bubbles? Before addressing that let’s consider once more the nature of the canon and how it is, almost inevitably, shaped by near random samplings and collations. I should preface this by noting that I speak mainly of the visual communications area, but aspects of the analysis do bear upon other disciplines. In the mid-1980s, and indeed long after, there was no coherent history extant of many designers and illustrators who had worked in what was in fact quite a recent time period. One might also point to the much more constrained level of communication of information in a world before the internet and true mass media. In part this was also because codified histories of design and visual communications still had yet to be written. Another factor was that there was no sense of ‘history’ in terms of design. The practise still outweighed the reflective. That is, of course, true today as well. But, there are histories that have been written and there is an ever greater interest in the area.

One of the more interesting aspects of the recent Helvetica documentary was that it allowed us to actually see the designers, the people and the personalities behind long familiar work. Again, until relatively recently there was a sense of detachment and distance from those who produced design, a sense that personality was secondary. The names were known, but the faces much less so. This is far from unproblematic. Work is not produced in a vacuum, and it is also important to recognise the centrality of personality – of authorship – to the process. Now, it is certainly true that for those working in design there was a greater familiarity with individual designers. And yet the constrained physical and communications horizons of a pre-digital era led to a certain distance, a certain detachment. That this was used, entirely deliberately, by some designers when generating work (one thinks of Peter Saville in particular who reveled in a sense of anonymity in both the nature of the work he produced and in respect to his own identity) is fascinating.

But what happens when the personality is obscured deliberately by the individual creating work?

Take the example of Barney Bubbles. His most visible design, and one which is still – somewhat amended – in use today, is the New Musical Express (NME) masthead logo. Those of a certain age will – perhaps – remember his work for space-rock group Hawkwind or for New Wave icons Ian Dury and the Blockheads. It was Bubbles who developed the angular logo for the latter, it was he who produced psychedelic tinged imagery for the former.

His approach incorporated a range of different styles. A smaller number again will know that he produced the cover artwork for many of Elvis Costello’s albums. There were elements of pastiche and retrospection. The imagery for Hawkwind leaned on Futurist and Constructivist illustration with a hint of Art Deco. He clearly was familiar with a wide range of historical references that he utilised to generate unique imagery.

He sat on the interface between different and in some respects mutually incompatible visual revolutions. The last ripples of psychedelia intersected with punk and then New Wave to generate – well, remarkably modern work as it happens. He was able to produce work which straddled both areas entirely successfully and with a curious retrospective gloss on the 1970s work which translated into a modernist, yet decorative, sheen on the 1980s pieces.

He had worked on various underground magazines during the 1960s including Oz. He moved for some time to the west coast of the United States. And somehow that influence is apparent not merely in the work for Hawkwind with its lush floral configurations based in large part of Art Nouveau, but also later designs that more than hint at Memphis influenced design, particularly those he did for Ian Dury. And still later ones for Elvis Costello which quite explicitly reference Blue Note style designs.

Indeed this ‘painterly’ quality to his illustration gave it a curiously organic feel that might well have suited this period where the digitisation of hand rendered imagery has brought more traditional illustrative techniques back into fashion.

Of course this raises a further issue. How significant was the work that Barney Bubbles produced? Well, on the evidence of the work we do know about, considerably so. This was material which managed to span a considerable period of time and remarkably different styles with assurance. To my mind he belongs to a group of designers who were the clear expression of a specific time and place, whose work epitomises that time. Once more one thinks of Saville. That he was able to bridge the gap between psychedelia and New Wave is indicative of an approach which incorporated considerable flexibility.

But one remarkable aspect of his work was that he refused to sign the pieces that he produced. Therefore there remains a considerable body of work which is unattributed to him. To add to this anonymity Bubbles also refused payment in a large number of instances.

That he also embraced the counter-culture and through the use of anonymity sought to project the idea that design had an autonomy beyond the commercial is fascinating. One might argue that his willful anonymity was in part to break down the artificial barriers between the author of a work and the consumer.

And, of course, there was no Barney Bubbles in the sense that he was born Colin Fulcher. Apparently he had a love of pseudonyms and finally fixed upon one alone. So even the Bubbles name was a further layer of anonymity.

The difficulties that his approach presents the canon are varied. The sampling that we have of his work that can be definitely attributed is limited, and deliberately so on the part of the person who generated that work. Tragically he committed suicide at the age of 41 in 1983, and seemingly the opportunity to discover more is now lost. Yet, he is referenced on wikipedia and there is at least one site which deals with him in some detail, that of designer John Coulthart (who also worked for Hawkwind), here.

Yet a curious paradox emerges, because despite this lack of information about him there have been a number of articles published on him and his work across the last quarter century. Rick Poyner writing on John Coulthart’s site notes:

Malcolm mentions the article about Bubbles in The Face — it’s in no. 19, November 1981. Not impossible to find in a vintage magazine shop, even now.

It’s by Dave Fudger, runs to four pages, includes a nice abstract self-portrait in colour (BB declined to be photographed), and, as well as the record sleeves, it shows some of the furniture — very postmodern, quite Memphis — that Bubbles designed for Editions Riviera in 1981.

There is more. He also noted that:

For anyone who cares to track it down, we published a well illustrated, 16-page article about Bubbles by Julia Thrift in Eye magazine (no. 6 vol. 2, 1992) — it remains one of the very few pieces published about him.

Will Birch [see the comments section for this post] noted that:

There is some Barney Bubbles biographical information in my book ‘No Sleep Till Canvey Island – The Great Pub Rock Revolution’.

And remarkably he also featured as the subject of an exhibition of his work held by Rebecca and Mike Heath in the early 2000’s in London.

So whatever his anonymity, the lack of information about him and his work was to a significant extent very much a function of different sources largely inaccessible due to them appearing prior to appearance of the internet, or during a time when the internet was still relatively new.

That situation has changed.

On the comments section on John Coulthart’s site we read Paul Gorman write:

I thought it may interest your subscribers/visitors to know that my book about Barney’s work will be published this autumn by British publisher Adelita. A US publisher will be announced soon.

Coulthart also has a post on this and notes…

My long and rambling post about the work of Barney Bubbles in January 2007 generated a considerable flurry of renewed interest in the great designer and ended by saying “We’re overdue a decent book-length examination of his work and his influence.” Just over a year later, here we are…. Paul Gorman was one of the contributors to the lengthy comments thread and I’m really pleased to see him take up the challenge to bring Barney’s work to a wider and, one hopes, new audience.

It is difficult not to propose that the layers of communication that have developed in this era, and the internet being foremost amongst them, have given a surprising impetus to the development of the canon. The retrieval of information about previously (largely) unsung designers continues apace (consider too how central Peter Saville has become to the history of Factory Records and the group Joy Division – particularly in the last decade with the profusion of films about their history). Their work becomes evident for the ‘new audience’ that Coulthart writes about. What would Bubbles make of this, having spent a fair portion of his life playing with the concept that his identity could become nearly entirely detached from his work? One wonders.

Who then was Barney Bubbles? Perhaps we’re about to find out. Again.

Ciarán Swan