Nude Nude Girls

This week in my Communication Design 1 class, we talked about audience and allusion. I use the example of Edouard Manet’s Le déjeuner sur l'herbe and the application of this painting to other projects. Whenever I try to explain this I’m sure they are staring at me and thinking, “I have no idea what he is saying. I think he’s lost his mind.” But, that’s fine because I’m not sure about my mind lately.

Le déjeuner sur l'herbe was a scandal when it was exhibited in 1863. It was rejected by the Salon, and then shown at Salon de Refusés. Today it seems rather innocuous. Yes, there is a nude woman, but so what? Haven’t nude women existed in art for millennia? Yes, but in 1863, it was only appropriate when the woman appeared in a religious or mythological context. It was one thing to have a nude sculpture of the goddess Diana, but entirely different to have an ordinary woman nude. And having a picnic. With men. Shocking.

Jump ahead 120 years and the band Bow Wow Wow appropriates the image for their album cover. This is how allusion and audience works: if you know the background of Manet’s painting, you recognize it on Bow Wow Wow’s cover. You know the message here is that Bow Wow Wow is scandalous and shocking. You feel special and smart. If you don’t know the Manet reference it still works if you are a 16-year-old new wave kid living on a farm, “Nude girl. Cool.”

The album cover was in actuality scandalous because the lead singer, Annabella Lwin, was only 15 when the photo was released. This led to an uproar about child abuse and investigation by Scotland Yard. As a side note, when I was 19, I met Annabella during my time on American Bandstand. She had a wonky Mohawk, but one of the few guests who interacted with the kids.

Recently someone sent me Stano Masár’s version of Le déjeuner sur l'herbe. It’s wonderful and points to the issue of allusion and audience perfectly. With such a small amount of information, I recognize this. Yeah, I’m groovy, I know modern art history.

Simpletons

 

When Noreen and I first started AdamsMorioka, the design du jour was busy, layered, and busier. If a poster didn’t have 32 layers, 8 spot colors, 4 varnishes and some type that had been run through a copier 10 times, it couldn’t be serious design. But, since I can’t think that much, we made posters in 2 colors with no layers and easy to read Franklin Gothic. You can imagine the love that we received for this. I recall meeting a well-known designer famous for this type of complex work who refused to shake my hand. Jeez, you’d think we were kidnapping and drowning kittens.

Fortunately, we had some champions who made up for the angry stares. Our great friend, Alexander Gelman, was one of the first designers we met who shared our idea. Gelman takes simplicity and minimalism to its most extreme place. The result is work that is aggressive and almost assaulting in its clarity. Simple does not mean dull or conservative. When I need to make this argument clear, I point to Gelman’s work.

He’s just as direct in person. One year, we all went to the Sundance Film Festival together. A particularly annoying person in our group would not shut up. All day and night she told us what to do, what to see, where to park, and what was good and bad. Finally, Gelman simply said, “No. You are wrong.” This worked; she stopped shouting commands at us. As you see, simplicity in design is good, and simplicity in language is better.