Annotations

Editor to Book Designer: Read First, Design Later!

Editor though I am, graphic design fascinates me. I think a well-designed book, regardless of subject matter, can launch some of life's greatest experiences. There is something wonderfully encouraging about the dialogue between the visual and the cerebral inspired by type on a page (or screen). Frequently I am thrilled when I read words made from well-wrought, carefully chosen type. Place it in thoughtful proximity to pictures, and it can be astonishing. Therefore, I want to know if others think it is too much to ask of book designers that they pay attention to the substance and nature and content of their raw material—text and, often, images.

"Type: nothing but blocks of gray space!" I was present when this was tossed off word-for-word by one of the world's most highly reputed graphic designers. You can guess in what esteem he held the actual words and sentences that comprised that gray space. (Sadly, his illustrated-book designs treated pictures as nothing but blocks of colored space.) But he raked in the design awards. Had he read any of the text with which he was asked to work, his designs would undoubtedly have been very different—dare I say better?

Another quote: "He would be happiest if he was asked to design a book that had no words." And you guessed it, "he" is also an acclaimed book designer who reliably wins impressive kudos and awards. When I heard this statement and the admiration it engendered, I recalled a museum publications competition I judged a few years ago. My fellow judges quickly became annoyed by suggestions (on a couple of occasions, insistence) that we take into account the manner in which the content was handled and how it worked—or didn't—with the visual component. But my colleagues couldn't move beyond assessments of each piece's "pretty quotient." Their words, not mine. Basically, my viewpoint was completely overruled within the first hour or so. (As I recall, the highest accolades went to a tasteful, neo-Romantic poster featuring a restrained painting of a bouquet of flowers with a counterpoint of tightly elegant type. It was lovely, unquestionably, but had little to do with the subject of the exhibition it promoted: the art and culture of late-1930s Berlin.)

By the time we founded Vern Associates, Peter had heard my diatribes about book designers' all-too-frequent refusal to read the material with which they were charged. His being a book designer didn't dissuade me from jumping on my soapbox, from which I could spew unfair invective and floods of generalized, less-than-complimentary notions about why reading wasn't part of their skill set. Nevertheless, Peter took it to heart, and when we began our business he became determined to show me that not every graphic designer prides him or herself on feigned illiteracy. The result, I like to think, has been books offering far more than merely surface beauty and visual intrigue. These publications actually enhance readers' experiences and facilitate their understanding of the material between covers.

Typically, simple tools accommodate this. For example, for our Princeton U.P. book—Ten Thousand Things: Module and Mass Production in Chinese Art—we were asked to capture the vibrance of Lothar Ledderose's brilliant Mellon Lectures by conveying in book form the blend of his lively speaking style, the information and point of view he offered, and the immediacy made possible by an illustrated presentation. We recognized right away that to do this we needed a design that "speaks" directly to the text, which our editorial/design mix provided. So, when Prof. Leddorose deals in detail with the integral character of a 12th-century BC bronze wine container, we chose to display all four sides and two views of the lid together on a single page, which faced the relevant text. The author later told us that he was delighted with this solution, which he had never encountered before.

The importance of the book designer's comprehension of the nature of the text recently struck me when weeding my library. Several discards were books whose content I treasure and return to often, but the tiny type and skimpy leading made those particular editions ineligible for future reading. I was particularly struck by the miserliness apparent in the text design for a volume of Emily Dickinson's poems and another by, of all people, Walt Whitman! Had the designers spent half an hour or so reading random selections of either one, I can't imagine how they could have prepared such cramped and crimped pages.

To be fair, designers aren't at fault when publishers' economic dictates require Scrooge-like squeezing into too few pages. But don't book publishers (and their editors and designers) owe it to readers to create as felicitous an experience as possible? From my personal perspective, I see that as the goal to which book makers of all stripes and job descriptions must aspire.

Content as words and illustrations, not empty calories.

I expect this is the reason I have always loved illustrated books—children's books, coffee table books, graphic novels—and have spent most of my career designing them. Illustrations give me a break from reading while offering a way to process information in a more immediate fashion. It's also why I consider information graphics (charts, graphs, tables, etc.) to be illustrative. Once finished with my "break," I can return to my place in the text more relaxed and better informed than when I left.

Anniversary books and design firms: Resolve these five issues first

My March 24th post concerned hiring a design or marketing firm or an advertising agency to develop and produce a book about an organization's history. As I mentioned then, anniversary books are often longer and editorially more complex than the projects typically produced by such firms.

I also noted that the manuscript and art for such an anniversary book might not have received the necessary shaping, trimming, and focusing that a strong editorial hand can supply. So, even if you are confident in your completed manuscript, here are five crucial points to cover before commissioning a creative team.     

1. Previous experience
Requesting information as specific as possible on this point always works to your advantage. If the potential vendor assures you that there is no difference between the work he has produced and what you require, ask him why — specifically and in detail. You know much more and about your organization and are likely to have a clearer picture of the end product you want than he does. Once, when bidding to produce the history of an executive recruitment firm, we were summarily discounted because we did not have another executive recruitment firm's history in our portfolio. The client spent fifteen very illuminating minutes outlining why they required such particular experience.

2. Communication vs. intimidation
Do the prospective firms understand your business, your organization, your story? Do they effectively present to you your story — in terms related to your business — rather than explain how they approach their own work? I've attended design presentations, both as a designer and a client, at which I have seen too many design professionals rely heavily on design-speak. They seemed to use it as an effective means of intimidation, assuming that the best defense is a good offense. Resist these obvious tactics, and keep in mind that the presenter needs to prepare for the meeting by familiarizing himself with your work, not the other way around.

3. Samples of their work
If you want a cloth-bound, hardcover book with a French-fold* dust jacket and five-color, printed endpapers, the firm you hire needs to show you a sample of exactly that. Your vendor should be working with a printer who specializes in printing and binding illustrated, hardbound books. If not, you run a significant risk of cost over-runs, schedule delays, and compromises to the overall quality of the finished book.

4. Schedule, front-end and back end
Does the design firm you are interviewing understand the time frame your anniversary history requires? Imagine you have a total of 14 months in which to complete the project, but your designer doesn't realize it may take more than 12 of those months to complete the text and art research, interviews, writing, and editing. Such inexperience will turn into significant rush fees for production and printing, not to mention the chance of a missed deadline.

5. Will it last?
You expect the beautifully printed and bound book you have worked so hard to produce — this volume that commemorates the last however-many years of your organization — to have a shelf life of more than a few months. Many print publications incorporate very expensive techniques and materials, but are not expected to have the long and useful life of a well-made book. Printers and binders specializing in fine-quality illustrated books have the resources to offer the best prices on paper, printing, and binding materials that endure. Find out if the firm you are interviewing knows how to provide you with a beautiful book that will also last decades, not just years. Note, too, that the same kind of longevity should be expected from the book's look, feel and design. Trendy seldom equals lasting.

*A "french fold" dust-jacket is one with folded, double-thick edges along the book's perimeter, which assures greater durability and resistance to tearing.

Anniversary books: "creative" and "content" are not oxymoronic.

The last thing any organization's harried communications director needs is to go through the complicated process of hiring a design firm/marketing firm/advertising agency to produce their history only to be met with: "We are ready to start, when will you send us the text, art, research, interviews, manuscript, and everything else?"

An annual report, for example, can easily reach book-length proportions. However, it's reasonable to expect that an annual report will begin with an overview of the previous year and end with lists of officers and board members. Moreover, altering the report's form would do little to enhance the content within and is even likely to make it more difficult to use.

A history that includes pictures, while nonfiction, is still a story, and integrating the ways both pictures and text drive that story is integral to creating an engaging illustrated book. 

The design of an illustrated history benefits from a close relationship between author, editor, and designer. Even a history as rudimentary as a chronological time-line will do more to engage the reader if each benchmark is carefully considered, reflecting the preceding entry and informing the subsequent.

As an illustrated-book producer, I have had the good fortune to be involved in the "building" of an illustrated book. The editor and I met with the book's two authors and its photographer (who documented the entire project) for a series of weekly brainstorming meetings on how to portray the way architect Frank Gehry's astonishing Stata Center came to be, from concept through design, execution, construction, and implementation.

Each week we would meet and discuss the many issues that needed to be addressed. The following week we returned with our various contributions, such as rough manuscript or rough layouts (sometimes both). These inspired further discussion of how to expand and develop the story.

I've experienced very few projects that have developed as organically as this one. It confirmed my concern that when a designer is handed all the components of a history and told to put them together, he or she could easily miss any number of opportunities to bring the story to life. For example, I have seen countless designers roll their eyes at the art they receive for a project, never considering what they could do to improve both the art and the project overall.

 

My partner, the editorial "wing" of our company, and I provide our clients with a simple, unique service that seems to be little known outside of the publishing world. When we receive a manuscript, we can furnish the client with an "art manuscript": we simply annotate the text with suggestions for photographs, art, or artifacts that enhance the story's progression. We offer this service whether we are developing a new manuscript with the author, editing a client's completed manuscript, or have received both edited manuscript and art program from a client. Our suggestions are always well received, but never more so than when a client's "photo research staff" is actually an overworked manager who had too much to do before the project landed on her desk. Such circumstances rarely foster inspiration. In fact, our art manuscripts have often inspired researchers to track down illustrations above and beyond our suggestions.

I have never considered the elements of graphic design as a collection of discrete components that need to be balanced and arranged. When words and pictures work side by side, they elevate even the most unlikely subject and bring its story to life. A client need never apologize for bringing what others might consider a "prosaic" topic to the table. Our goal is to reinvigorate the client—and the ultimate reader— to consider a familiar story with their own fresh, excited eyes.

The 5 Ws of Illustrated-Book Design (Part 2 of 2)

The 5 Ws of Illustrated-Book Design (Part 1 of 2)

When Vern Associates (VAI) began work as an illustrated-book producer 15 years ago, my partner, an exceptionally skillful and sensitive editor, expressed frustration at working with certain graphic designers who considered “content” just another tool in their design workboxes—“nothing more than gray space,” as one had called it. Many designers seem to have little interest or understanding of the text or subject matter with which they were assigned to work.

 

As VAI’s creative director, I considered this to be a challenge, and it has set a standard for the publications we produce for our clients. VAI books entice readers to spend time with them. In order to do this, I need to be very familiar with the content—I need to read it. While my understanding of the story may not be as detailed as my partner’s, I make certain I grasp not just the nature of our client’s work, but also what about it excites them.

 

I have started examining some favorite VAI projects using the journalist’s basic storytelling structure—who, what, when, where, and why—to consider how VAI integrates graphic design in the service of animating their stories. This blog looks at the who and what; part 2 will consider the remaining three Ws.

Who— Living in the Future: International House, 75 Years

When we were called upon to create a commemorative history for the storied international residence that grew up alongside Columbia University in New York City, it became apparent that the foundation of this book would be its people and the vast array of stories they brought from around the world. Complementing these stories was a rainbow of faces that exemplified the principles of International House as eloquently as it’s credo:

I am International House.
I open my doors to the students of the world
that they may live together and grow in understanding.
I am builded as a canopy for an adventure
that had its beginning in a friendly greeting to a lonely student
which has widened into a world of brotherhood.
Therefore, I am not a beginning but a fulfillment.

Faces abound throughout this book. The history of this remarkable place includes some of the twentieth century’s most illustrious figures, and the fascinating formal and candid event photographs that punctuate the text were always displayed alongside portraits and profiles of individuals—some famous, others less so—who have woven the fabric of this international tapestry.

What– Safer, More Secure Lives: A History of Liberty Mutual Group

This particular what represents the broad spectrum of stories, beliefs, goals, and achievements that make an organization stand out from its competitors in the mind of its public. In short, it is the company’s brand.

A corporate brings to life the development of a company’s brand, that is, how it adapted to changes in society and the demands of those it serves in order to grow and flourish.

As we do with all of our clients, we worked closely with Liberty Mutual’s communications and marketing departments, adhering to graphic standards for the brand. For example, in this case we featured the development of Liberty Mutual’s logo, from before the introduction of Lady Liberty through all of her corporate makeovers. 

 

 

 

As de facto publisher for our clients, we take pride in creating books that reflect and respect the uniqueness of their brand. But they must also stand apart as fully realized editorial works, not merely advertising or marketing material.

 

 

 

Art Book Designer Considers: What Is an Illustrated Book?

When we started Vern Associates 15 years ago, almost all of our clients were commercial publishing companies well versed in every aspect of the editorial, design, and production processes required to make a book. As our client base expanded to include nonpublishing entities, however, we were suddenly called upon to explain both the specifics and even some basic concepts of our work.

Initial confusion usually shows itself when I tell a potential client that we produce “illustrated books.” For publishing professionals, this term conjures up different types of publications, each with its own specific market. But our nonpublishing clients often assume we produce picture books for young children. That’s reasonable. Children’s books prominently display “illustrated by” credits on their covers, and illustration tends to suggest drawn or painted artwork.

I researched the term illustrated book and found the following definition in The Illustrated Book: Notes on an Exhibition in the Print Gallery of the New York Public Library, written in 1919 by Frank Weitenkampf:

Books were illustrated from the beginning. From the block books and the earliest books printed with movable type, on through four and a half centuries, illustration has played its significant part in the printed book. Two basic principles have obtained: the illustration must either elucidate the text or adorn it. It may do both; sometimes it does neither.

We produce museum catalogs illustrated with reproductions of fine art; corporate and organizational histories illustrated with photographs, documents, and artifacts; professional publications illustrated with information graphics and photo-documentation; lifestyle books showing photographs or drawings of food, design, etc. Regardless of a book’s category, it requires that its illustration (be it photography, fine or commercial art, even use of color and typographic display) integrate with the text to invite the reader’s attention and sustain it through an extensive and complex story.

Being an art book designer has captured my interest for more than 20 years. I love the challenge of creating visual guides, landmarks, respites, and highlights for readers to use and enjoy on their journey from front cover to back. Each new title presents its own unique set of challenges and, as many poorly designed books confirm, it is very easy to apply illustration in a way that neither elucidates its text nor adorns it.