Re-mixed works by Micah Wright (who seems to have disappeared from the Internet)…

(from www.silhouettemasterpiecetheatre.com…)

From a remarkable French website featuring thousands of antique postcards (of every genre)… century-old photographs (from around the world), poignant illustrations (like the Raphaël Kirchner above), and delightful ephemera. (Link no longer active, sorry).

…from a beautiful Flickr collection of vintage ephemera, here.

Shepard Fairey’s apt expression… (read a great interview with Shepard on Fecal Face; see an archive of Shepard’s posters here).

from www.samwreimer.com… (launched to promote bard and book)

Well, here it is at long last “warts and all”— Sam W. Reimer’s Gray Matter Graffitti: remnants of collections lost… an early gallery from some alleyways & other by-ways. This initial collection of some 200 original written works (of which only a handful have previously seen the light of day) draws from a prodigious assemblage penned during four decades of expressive poetic ideation—as the book title suggests, these poems have percolated in the bard’s brain long enough—they’re good and ripe by now and ready to be read by all.

Sam’s poems provide a plaintive voice for our tempestuous times—his unique commentaries on life and love (and love-lost ennui) are at once poignant, unapologetically direct, and (often) edged with the tragic—his ponderings range from the profane to the sacred, drill deep, and dare to pose unanswerable questions. Unheralded, unsung, and little published though Sam’s inspired ruminations have been in the past, they’re finally compiled, printed, bound, and available for a broader readership.

It’s our hope that as you dip in and out of this book, you do so with an open mind (which, like a parachute, works much better than when closed)… and as you read, let Sam’s pen sketch stories, pictures, contemplations on blank pages of your own imagination. The works offered are Sam’s invitation to laugh, to cry, to curse, and to reflect—on opportunities long gone and outcomes yet to come. Enjoy…

(from the Introduction, by Robert L. Peters, Editor)

Images: the book’s cover; illustrated chapter titles (poems in the 214-page book appear in eight thematic chapters).

Los Angeles, California

“Speed, style and grace—these epitomize the Golden Age of travel in its simplest form. The 1920’s and 1930’s ushered in an unprecedented era of travel to exotic and romantic destinations. And nowhere was this more clearly expressed than in the travel posters of that time. The Los Angeles Public Library’s collection of travel posters perfectly captures this era, and with this exhibition, the Library shares its bounty with the public for the first time.”

“Among the highlights are two posters issued for the 1936 Munich Olympics; steamship posters for the NYK Lines, the Orient Lines, and the Grace Lines; and outstanding airline posters for Air France and Pan American. Most of the posters share an Art Deco sensibility; however, there are two wonderful examples of Futurist design. All the posters capture the essence of this era in a way that no other medium can…”

View the collection of travel posters here. Along the same vein, check out my earlier post re: Luggage Labels here.

Decoding Design: Understanding and Using Symbols in Visual Communication

“Our culture has lost touch with the archetypal principles that underlie simple numbers and shapes,” writes author Maggie Macnab “…principles that lie deep within the unconscious and have a psychological and spiritual impact on us.” A longtime designer and teacher immersed in symbolism and visual literacy, she delivers the leitmotif with fervent zeal: “As designers, it is our responsibility to create conscious and lucid communications. We can’t afford to contribute to information junk….”

This engaging design theory book fulfills its stated purpose, to: “connect us back into the language of nature, to revive our understanding of source, and to create communications that flow unobstructed by an intelligence that has lost its way in the world.” A quote attributed to Galileo Galilei sums the author’s intentions in “demystifying and decoding” visual language—“You cannot understand the universe without learning first to understand the language in which it is written…” without which “we wander in a dark labyrinth.”

Having made the case for more cogent design at the outset, the book delves deep into symbolism, pattern awareness, and “the recursive nature of nature.” (I love that line). Ten subsequent chapters (each introduced with a compelling illustrated plate by Joel Nakamura) illuminate the subject by “bringing shape to meaning,” and vice versa by means of case studies, “deconstructions” of well-known logos, and depictions galore—all-the-while demonstrating how visual communication can “tap into the dynamic energy of the collective psyche.”

The sources Maggie cites are wide and varied (Jungian psychology, Aztec shamans, Unitarian Universalism, Sufi Enneagrams, sacred sexuality…) and visuals draw from a vast treasure house of the familiar as well as the unexpected, arcane, and esoteric (DNA helices, Buddhist mudras, Arachnid webs…). Through it all, she weaves together a persuasive narrative to support her rubric that what sets humans apart from other mammals is our ability “to understand how basic patterns connect, allowing us to alter our experience…” and thereby to symbolize.

Decoding Design will appeal to anyone interested in the “why” behind effective graphic design and communicative form-giving. Well researched, well designed, well referenced, and with hundreds of visual entry-points for the reader, it successfully achieves its claim—a must-buy for design students and visual communication practitioners—even the best-read in our field are sure to learn and benefit from it.

—Robert L. Peters, FGDC
224 pages, softcover, $35
Author: Maggie Macnab
Published by HOW Books
www.decodingdesign.com

+ + + + +

The book review I wrote appears in the July 2008 ‘Illustration Annual’ issue of Communication Arts (#361). Decoding Design’s innovative cover lets you “dial in” a selection to “reveal the relationship between numbers, concepts, & symbols.” 

Winnipeg, Canada

This painting by Charles William Jefferys (1869-1951) depicts the The Battle of Seven Oaks (known to the Métis as la Victoire de la Grenouillière, or the Victory of Frog Plain) that took place here in the Red River Colony (modern-day Winnipeg) on June 19, 1816 during the long dispute between the Hudson’s Bay Company and the North West Company, rival fur-trading companies in western Canada. The fight was triggered by a food shortage (an edict prohibiting the export of food called the Pemmican Proclamation had been issued by the Hudson’s Bay Company—this was not recognized by the local Métis, who also did not acknowledge HBC’s authority of the Red River Settlement). The Pemmican Proclamation was a blow to both the Métis and North West Company, who accused the HBC of unfairly monopolizing the fur trade with this action.

The battle erupted when a band of Métis, led by Cuthbert Grant, seized a supply of Hudson’s Bay Company pemmican (that was originally stolen from the Métis) and were travelling to a meeting with traders of the North West Company to whom they intended to sell it. They were met south of Fort Douglas along the Red River at a location called Seven Oaks by a group of HBC men and settlers—a heated argument eroded into a gunfight. Though well-supplied with hubris, the HBC men did not stand a chance against the Métis, who were skilled sharpshooters and outnumbered them by nearly three to one. The Métis killed 22 (of 24) on the HBC side, including the local Governor, while they themselves suffered only one casualty. The Métis were later exonerated by a Royal Commissioner appointed to investigate the incident. Grant went on to became an important figure in the Hudson’s Bay Company after its eventual merger with the North West Company.

(It seems clear that this incident was triggered the attempt at unfair monopolization — when “enterprising” goes too far)…

(from somewhere in Macedonia—photographer unknown)

The opposite of a truth is often an even greater truth. I love the way that “turning something over” can reveal so much more… in keeping with that great quip by Josef Beuys: “When you cut your finger, bandage the knife.”