24 February 2009

I like to look at and read about architecture, and in so doing I wandered into this text from a little old book called Architecture, written by Forrest Wilson:

There are aesthetic rules for building just as there are principles of structure. The difference is that if we do not follow structural principles the building will fall down, but if we violate the rules of design the building may continue to stand but will be very ugly. Anyone can tell when a building falls down but not everyone agrees on what makes a building beautiful.

Very straightforward and very true in my experience. I’ve watched a building fall down, and I’ve had disagreements on what might be beautiful.

The quote is from the book’s Part 3, in which Wilson talks about ‘the language of architecture’ — things like shape, depth, illusion, texture, space, and scale. I really enjoyed these illustrations showing how we can perceive what kind of materials have been used simply by recognizing their shape and scale in proportion to average human height:

Wilson describes these images:

If you were asked to draw conclusions about what these background materials were, you would say that the first was stone, the second concrete block and the third brick and the fourth impossible to describe. Why would this be your reaction? Because this is the proportion in which these materials are most commonly encountered.

Standards, conventions, expectations

And it’s these ‘common encounters’ that I’ve been thinking about lately — standards and conventions in relation to expected ways of doing and understanding things. We’re to be quiet in libraries. Men don’t talk to or acknowledge one other in public restrooms. Cars have steering wheels. We will bleed when cut and it will probably hurt.

These are things we know and expect. Some things we were deliberately taught, and other things we’ve learned by experience as Wilson explains a couple pages later:

In childhood, we acquire a knowledge of the world around us by bumping into things, feeling, biting and taking everything apart that comes within our reach.

This knowledge is accumulated and stored in our minds throughout our lifetime. It solidifies into deeply instilled, instinctive opinions […].

The design of things

I started working on writing out a sort of design philosophy, principles I intuitively adhere to in my work, and one thing that came up was this: take advantage of standards and conventions. This is nothing new, of course, especially in the web industry. Web Standards are a big thing for a few years now. But I’m talking about something much broader than the web specifically.

When we talk about the design of things, we’re talking about things that are intended to be used or experienced by real people, presumably for their benefit. More specifically, we’re talking about making things easier to use, more pleasurable or beautiful, or more efficient. This is true whether we are talking about websites, printed editorial layouts, the operating controls of a car, spacial perception in architecture, fashion, furniture, etcetera.

It’s occurring to me that design is entirely about being fully aware of standards and conventions, and knowing how (and when) to exploit and adapt them to the benefit of people who will be using our final product, whether it’s a book, a car, a website, a telephone, or anything. Maybe this is obvious, but it’s a big obvious that I wasn’t so consciously aware of before.

Consider the common experience

Looking back at the figure in front of different patterns, as Wilson pointed out it’s only because of ‘common encounters’ that we might conclude the same identification of the materials behind the figure. This is important for designers to know. Header, content, sidebar, footer is a pattern that works really well because of this reality. People understand it because they have seen it over and over again. It’s a standard, a convention, a common experience.

There are definitely times that we should need to throw conventions to the wind and establish something new — such knowing coming with time and practice, and something I am completely open to — but before asking too many questions, before reinventing the wheel as the old saying goes, we should look at what we can do to make full use of established methods.

The last word, at your service

Another working principle I had written was this: I am a serviceman, not an exhibiting artist. If this is true, which I think it is (or ought be), than we should aim to be aware of common behaviors and perceptions, and try to design around them, because our work is foremost a service to people and only lastly an exhibition of artistry.