There is a lot in common between art and design, but they’re not the same. At times, the lines between the two disciplines become blurred, but the distinctions remain and are important to understand. Prior to the Industrial Revolution, art and design were blended in beauty, purpose and craftsmanship. During that era, the two disciplines separated. Design remained practical and commercial while art for art’s sake allowed for the pursuit of creative expression as a singular goal and took off in another direction.

Despite their differences, we need to acknowledge what these two disciplines have in common:

• They’re both visual and belong to the broader category of visual art.
• They both incorporate the aesthetic principles.
• Practitioners in both fields need knowledge of history, past movements and current trends.
• Both are highly creative activities involving processes that require time, observation and thinking.

The dividing line between art and design is drawn by the purpose of each:

• Art allows for self-expression. The artist decides what he or she wants to evoke and works toward that end. It is self-satisfying.
  Design is communication and function in visual form, created for the general population or a segment of it. Design addresses stated needs and solves problems.
• Art can rely entirely on aesthetics alone, and artists embark on journeys of exploration and experimentation. Design marries aesthetics with function to achieve a purpose.
• Art is open to interpretation by the viewer.
  Design cannot be interpretive but must communicate specifically and clearly to its intended audience.
• Art is elitist, meaning that it is viewed in galleries and museums, exhibited away from the mainstream of everyday experience. One looks at art and may or may not have a significant experience.
  Design is seen and experienced by just about everyone in the course of a day. One uses design. Web sites, packaging, billboards, print advertising, newspaper layouts, fashion, signage, interior spaces, smart phone apps, products and appliances all have been designed for both visual appeal and practical use.
• Art exists for itself. It’s innovative, expressive and sometimes shocking.
  Design is practical and carefully crafted. It supports business, commerce, marketing, entertainment, journalism, communications and causes.
• Artists stand in front of their work and get to put their signatures on it in plain view. Designers stand behind their work and remain unknown for the most part.

Most people can name half a dozen artists off the top of their heads. Most cannot name half a dozen designers – with the possible exception of fashion designers. (Quickly, and without Googling or Binging – who created the CBS logo? Who designed the type face used in the London Underground signs?) Yet design carries far more weight and influence in our time and throughout history than fine art. Most people don’t make the connection that the bag of chips they’re consuming was designed by someone, or that it’s by design that cola and root beer products have different color schemes.

Design involves specific criteria, research and study, along with extreme creativity. Where an artist can begin with a blank canvas and creatively pursue a serendipitous route to an end result, a designer begins with a set of criterion and creates within specific boundaries all the way from concept through completion. Design is not decoration, and designers do not seek to express their own points of view but to accurately represent who or what they’re designing for. Design influences and persuades in the domain of popular culture. It is created for the masses and will always have a commercial purpose.

Why is it important to understand these differences? Simply because they’re not the same. We experience and value them differently. We treat artists and designers differently.

Art is something we go to see at the Getty Center or the Guggenheim, form opinions about and compartmentalize the experience as being uplifting or at least interesting. And then we go home. Art requires people to come to it, and its value lies in that people leave their everyday lives and go look and be inspired or shocked. Art is a getaway – a time for contemplation and being away from the ordinary.

Design’s value is in how it serves the community, the marketplace and the enterprises it represents in our commonplace, ordinary living. It comes to us daily at the grocery store, along roads, in books, at work, at play, when dining out, when doing our taxes. Everyday we use a plethora of things that were designed.

There are artists who design and designers who create art. If we attempt to say that one discipline is better than the other, keep in mind that they’re both necessary and worthy. There is a clear line between the two. The point is that we don’t confuse them, but value each one in its own right. Clients should not treat their designers as if they were artists, nor should artists be required to adhere to particular constraints.

When was the last time you went to an art exhibition? How have you experienced design today?

Two things we need right now: a little Christmas and a little prayer.

This 9″ x 12″ painting was created in watercolor, gouache and colored pencil on paper.

“Sequoia, In Part” – a pencil sketch of my dog, found in a sketchbook.

I am currently in the concept stages of a logo development project. I always begin in my sketchbook, doodling forms and symbols, playing with shapes, sizes and letter forms until things start to connect. I go a long way with my pencil before I boot up my computer. Yesterday, as I was in this process, I kept remembering an icon I had drawn in a sketchbook several years ago. It wasn’t part of any particular project, it was simply a doodle.

So I took a break from my concepts and pulled out my stack of recent sketchbooks, paging through them one by one. These books go back about ten years, and as I looked at each page, I began to reminisce. Each drawing was, in a way, like a photograph: a memory sketched rather than caught. Some books included drawings by my daughter in her early years. Some of those were pictures we drew together. We used to play a game in which one of us would draw a line or a shape and the other would build on it with a line or shape, and we’d alternate back and forth until we either filled up the page or finished the drawing. 

As I looked and reminisced, I thought about where I was when I made each sketch – whether it was preliminary for a client project, or a record of a place, like Yosemite, a portrait of someone, quick sketches of my dogs. I recalled conversations, thoughts, locations, feelings… my general frame of mind and stage of life when each sketch was made.

I was struck by how different it is to take a photograph of something than to sketch it. Photographs are more separated and distant to me. They’re captured. WIth my camera I am more concerned with composing the shot, framing, bracketing and lighting and with the technical issues of focal length and f-stops. The approach is more analytical, and the image is captured in an instant.

Drawing and painting, in contrast, are built over time. They each are developed line by line or shape by shape. When I sketch or paint, I am concerned with composing, with form, light and shadow, angles, gesture, contour, color, texture…  but my mind can go wandering off and return again. In the time it takes to make a drawing, I get to know my subject. If a person, I can converse and observe. If an object, I memorize its contours and details. The slowness of the process allows me time to muse, contemplate and reflect. I literally can look at an old drawing and remember what I was pondering while I was making it. I don’t do that so much with photographs.

Needless to say, I revisited a large chunk of my life yesterday. I’m glad to say that most of my recollections were good ones: of a young girl now grown and gone, of people who are no longer on earth, of my dogs when they were pups, of places I haven’t been in awhile,  of design projects I’d forgotten about, of certain trees and forms that simple caught my eye.

I found the doodle I was seeking. It was in the fourth book in the pile, toward the back. And you know what? When I found it, I put that book aside and picked up the next one, and then the next, and kept going until I had finished looking through all of them.

©2009 Alvalyn Lundgren

Last weekend I was over at the local Borders bookstore and cafe. I sat down with my sketchbook and began drawing the folks at the table in the center of the room. They were all older, and were discussing films and the movie industry, spending a good portion of their conversation contrasting the three Pride and Prejudice movies (Lawrence Olivier, Colin Firth and Keira Knightly versions). I overheard their conversation as I drew, beginning with this gentleman. By the time I had finished drawing him, all but one of his companions had left. He was left alone talking about engineering with a lanky Asian who had recently joined the group.

So at least I got the guy captured on paper. One thing I remember about him was that he didn’t sit still… he was constantly fidgeting and changing positions. And he never looked my way or gave me a full profile. 

By the way, the best Pride and Prejudice opus in my book? The BBC miniseries with Colin Firth.

Those who track and analyze cultural trends generally agree that our culture has become design-driven. It’s no longer based on business or technology but on design. We consumers generally assess the value of a product or idea based on post-modern criteria: its design, its visual appeal, how we experience it, how we feel about it. Design has overtaken business and technology as the impetus for consumption and economic growth. For example, chewing gum products are packaged to look good when sitting next to a Blackberry or iPhone. This, of course will increase their appeal and resulting sales.

Because we are design-driven, there is ample opportunity for innovation and new ideas to flourish when presented to the public in desirable “packaging”. Thus we judge a book by its cover and the contents inside the box by the graphics on the box. Designers develop these visual assets, packaging and experiences to, in essence, present ideas. Any idea presented in an elegant, exciting “package” generally achieves greater acceptance than one that isn’t. A good idea offered in a cheesy “box” will be passed over in favor of a bad idea presented in a thoughtful, aesthetically-sound container. Design persuades us to accept something based on its packaging or graphic environment.

A designer can take any idea – whether authentic or not – create an appealing graphic environment for it, provide a positive user experience, and it doesn’t matter if the idea is authentic or not. It matters only if it makes the user authentically feel good. As long as the design appeals, the idea it presents will gain acceptance, even if unprovable or dangerous.

Thus, surrounded by aesthetically-sound design, any idea can be accepted as valid. There is danger in this. Not every idea is valid or even worth consideration. Not every idea is “true”.

In our post-modern, design-driven culture, form has taken priority over content and style rules over substance. Post-moderns gauge authenticity based on experience rather than proof. It doesn’t matter if something is verifiable or not, as long as we feel good about it, as long as it makes us popular, provides a sense of community and belonging, or is compatible with our desire for absolute freedom. If it accomplishes any of those things, it must be authentic. If it is presented as being authentic, it will be considered as such even when proven otherwise.

Does it matter if we create excellent design to package a lie? Does it matter if we might be helping to spread inaccuracy and fabrication? Does anyone care, as long as something looks good?

By straddling two “worlds” in my design practice, I often think about one of them while engaging in the other. For instance, while working on a design project, I’ll be musing over the illustration in progress over there on my drafting table. And when I’m in my illustration mode, I’ll be considering the next step in my design process for a web site or a book design.

In my musings and considerations I’ve noticed that the creative process is somewhat different for each pursuit. Although the same considerations are involved in each, the point at which they come in the development process is different.

I begin a design project with pencil and paper (even if it’s a web site). I work out a bunch of ideas, dealing with color, proportion, shape relationships, balance, etc. even in this sketch stage. I refine my ideas and then move to the computer to produce them. Most of the problem-solving is done before I begin developing the final artwork. By the time it’s in digital form most of the kinks have been worked out, most of the aesthetic and functional decisions have been made, and I have a clear path to follow in creating the finished work.

Not so with illustration. Given a concept or story to tell, I make some rough sketches and refined comps, select the best to tell the story and then scaled up transferred to my board  (usually Strathmore 4-ply or Arches 300# watercolor paper). Once the drawing is committed to the paper, I’m ready to apply the paint. That’s when the decision making process really begins. I seem to make more judgements at this stage – in which I am developing the finished artwork. Color scheme and temperature, value relationships, textural contrasts, maintaining the integrity of the drawing, balance, etc. are all ongoing considerations until I can call the work finished.

In a design project, I generally determine color in the beginning stages. Making a painting may require a firm color decision early on, but not always. These decisions are made and can change as I progress further into the work.

It’s an interesting contrast for me – where the weight of decision falls in each of these creative processes. In one it’s toward the beginning, and in the other it’s toward the end.

Ink sketch by Alvalyn Lundgren. ©2009.

I seldom get bored in meetings. There is always something or someone that catches my interest and I begin to doodle. A quick sketch of Laszlo, who was listening attentively to the guy with the microphone, occupied a few minutes of my time. Then I turned to a new page and drew someone else.

Stearns Wharf, Santa Barbara ©2008

I enjoy watching people. My frequent jaunts upcoast often include visits to piers where there is an abundance of both commercial and private fishing activity.

This was one of two young men who evidently spend a lot of weekend hours fishing from the pier. He takes his catch home to his family in a 10-gallon painter’s bucket. From the amount of fish already in the bucket I deduced he was having a very good day.

Imitation is said to be the sincerest form of flattery, but it is the laziest form of creativity. 

There is a common response from my design students when I give them their first project assignment: They want to see some examples of previous work. But I won’t show them examples. Instead, I provide them with a specification sheet (a design brief), describe the desired outcome, answer their questions and provide information for them to go forth, design and conquer. I will show them inspiration images, suggest artists and designers to research and even present approaches they might take to solve the problem. But they really don’t like it when I don’t show them previous work.

There is a reason why I don’t: They have to be able to see the thing before it exists. That’s what designers do. We imagine and envision first, plan it out and then manifest the thing into actuality.

It is easy to imitate: to simulate or copy something else. It is also easy to innovate: to change something that already exists by adding to it, deriving from it or expanding on it. But to create is to bring something into existence that isn’t there already. It is a different pursuit requiring a different set of skills.

To create something, we must be able to see it first in our mind’s eye while it does not exist. This is a daunting concept if we have never had to seriously think creatively. In our desire to do things right the first time in the most expedient manner, we default to imitation – a safe but non-creative endeavor. Creating is a courageous act in that we go boldly where no one has gone before, not knowing exactly how it will turn out but knowing what it’s supposed to be because we’ve got it solidly in mind.

Imitation does not build creative thinking or the necessary confidence in oneself to be a designer. Imitation can never see beyond where or what it is, and does not allow for the development of a distinct artistic style and voice because it only copies someone else’s. A copy cannot measure up to the original.

I ask my students to be creative instead of imitative and to know the difference between the two.

There is an online petition with the goal of creating a better world by implementing a Secretary of the Arts position among the others in the President’s Cabinet. The petition is being circulated by Jamie Austria.

When I logged on to read the petition, I found this text:

To:  President Barack Obama

Congratulations and thank you for all you do. 

Your good friend Quincy Jones said: “…next conversation I have with President Obama is to beg for a Secretary of Arts.” [November 14th 2008 WNYC interview by John Schaefer on "Soundcheck."] 

We the undersigned support Quincy Jones’ plea. Thank you.

Sincerely,

The Undersigned

I’m a bit confused. What is it that The Undersigned are signing? What, exactly, are they supporting? What is the rationale behind the petition? What is the stated need for the requested Cabinet position? If this were a design brief it would fail before the project was even begun. There’s nothing to go on, here.

There’s nothing in this petition to agree with. All it seems to state is that “whatever Quincy Jones wants, I want, too”. I am not adding my name to something so vague.

The opposition petition presented by Paul Marquardt is much more reasonable. It states an actual argument, not an unsupported assertion. I will support this one, not only because I agree with it but because it really is a petition.