Twelve Inches of Pleasure

Note: Roland passed away last weekend, August 13, 2022. Good journeys my friend.

 

One of my courses on LinkedIn Learning is Fundamentals of Graphic Design History. The hard part of teaching history is engaging the audience. Fortunately, I know the backstories and lurid information, have decent images, and love history. But for the LinkedIn Learning course, condensing all of the Bauhaus into a three-minute format and ensuring that the response is not "Bueller, Bueller, anyone?" is tricky. It's a challenge and fun.

One area of emphasis is album design in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. The emotional impact of these artifacts is extraordinary. Yes, there was great corporate identity and typography at the time and enough content to fill hours. But when I mention a specific album, people light up. "Oh, I stared at The Tubes cover for hours trying to figure out how it worked." or "I kept the Frampton cover on the top of my pile of records just to see it when I woke up every morning.

Roland Young was one of my first professors at college. I was nineteen years old and, like most teenagers, knew everything. Everything. I was impressed when I realized that Roland was responsible for most of the record covers I loved. That's not easy for a know-it-all smug nineteen-year-old. Today, Roland is a good friend. I took over his Communication Design 1 class at Art Center and still hear from alumni, "Wow, when I had Roland for that class, my life changed." and "I'll never think of design the same way again." or "he made my career." My students tell me, "You're funny."

I recently discovered Roland's cover for Joan Baez. Where are you now, my son? This cover may seem unassuming and quiet, but it's masterful. The sharp typography with the confidence to be just what it is and the texture of the grainy image is contrast at its best. The image of Baez that speaks to the object of a printed photograph is about a moment in time and intimacy. The Smiths used this technique later.

Roland's work and career, from working with Lou Danziger to art director to a teacher, is immense and impossible to show without a significant book. Publishers, publishers, anyone?

photograph: Gilles Decroix
design: Caryn Gough

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