Education of a Graphic Designer

Steven Heller

There is, I believe, a Hollywood movie analogy for just about everything. Take Gravity, the 2013 Oscar Award–winning film about how even the most highly educated operator of the most technologically advanced flying machine in the universe can be bollixed by garbage. The greatest threat to life and limb is all that supersonic flying junk sent into the atmosphere in the name of technology and commerce. Gravity is a parable about the future of graphic design, which is at the mercy of technological and commercial “innovations” beyond its current control.

So massive are these changes that how to educate designers for the present, no less the future, can be as complicated as when Gravity’s Matt Kowalski (George Clooney), the wise old-middle-aged astronaut, attempts to get Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) back to Earth in one piece after she was cut adrift from her space station by hurtling satellite debris.

Like space junk, are digital medias smashing into old verities of graphic design? Designers, by and large, have more expert techno skill sets, but at what expense? UX and data viz designers are in more demand by industry when it comes to pushing data into digital space, which raises the question of how best to impart knowledge and what knowledge should indeed be imparted to students of these disciplines. Is fine typography and expert image direction and manipulation still the primary directives they once were? Or is code the new type? Can design be judged by time-honored aesthetic standards or is what we call graphic design destined to be viewed through anti-aesthetic lenses?

I wrote in the introduction to the second edition of this book in 2005:

Design pedagogy long ago moved out of the proverbial one-room schoolhouse onto a labyrinthine campus of departments and workshops awarding degrees and honors. In fact, considerable time has gone by since the formal word “pedagogy” was substituted in certain circles for the more pedestrian (though straightforward) “teaching.” Which is not a complaint, mind you, but an observation that design education has a lofty status now. It means that in many institutions it is no longer adequate to simply have a marketable portfolio—graduates must acquire bona fides through internships, apprenticeships, work studies, and anything else that bulks their résumés. They must have certificates, diplomas, degrees, awards, and scads more evidence that they are designers with a capital D rather than mere mouse-pushers.

Still, there is a lot more to learn about “capital D” graphic design since 2005. This third edition of The Education of a Graphic Designer examines the field as it was, is, and may even become. Since 2005, competitive trans-media programs have proliferated in schools large and small, especially in the postgraduate space. Indeed, more postgraduate programs are available that provide integrated programs, many of which emphasize the current marriages of technology, business, and strategy with traditional and new design disciplines. The job market is hungry for designers who know the new tools and old skills. For instance, writing and research are increasingly more integral to a well-rounded career.

“Unlike degree programs for professions governed by established standards and standardized tests (i.e., law, medicine, engineering, psychology, economics),” I wrote in the second edition, “graphic design—which does not, and perhaps may never, necessitate board-tested certification—has very few strict curriculum conventions and hardly any blanket requirements (other than “knowing” the computer and being “fluent” in type). Basic undergraduate design programs offer more or less the same basic courses, but levels of teaching excellence vary between institutions.” More and more, I hear that teachers, particularly faculty who are practicing designers, want to be part of institutions where the students have proven levels of skill and talent. Time is too short to simply tutor those who either cannot or will not achieve what might be described as a new standard of design proficiency. The new requisites for designers (and the definition thereof) demands that standards be established. Some of the contributors to this edition overtly and covertly address what they should be.

This new edition is a compendium of previously included and newly added essays. Retained are ones that have not lost their currency—or have a historical dimension that is relevant to current thinking. Eliminated are those essays that, while important to the history of design education and design literature, are not as relevant in this context. Still, to lose these voices is a shame. In the last edition Katherine McCoy wrote:

A discussion of graphic design education necessarily expands to include professional practice and theoretical research. These three components— education, practice, and theory—are interactive and describe the scope of any profession.

But is graphic design a profession? The field did not exist at the beginning of this century, and still there is little agreement on the proper nomenclature. Are we graphic designers, graphic artists, commercial artists, visual communicators, communication designers, or simply layout men and pasteup artists?

McCoy was spot-on in her longer analysis of why in 2005 design education was in its adolescence. But that stage is arguably over. Still, what we call ourselves is an issue that needs resolution on the pedagogical stage. Like standards in practice, common nomenclature implies maturity as well. Yet maturity does not mean a loss of serendipity. Graphic design may be veering towards technological and strategical realms, but it is still an art form demanding aesthetics and imagination.

The first edition of The Education of a Graphic Designer was loosely based on the 1997 education conference that I co-chaired called How We Learn What We Learn, sponsored by the School of Visual Arts, which examined how the confluence of history, theory/practice, and new media could be taught in various educational models. The previous edition was divided into three sections: “How We Learn What We Learn,” which included critical essays on the essence of learning and teaching; “How I Learned What I Learned,” which included interviews with designers and educators on how they were educated; and “How I Teach What I Teach,” a selection of ideal syllabuses. This last section was so popular it was spun off into an entire book titled Teaching Graphic Design: Course Offerings and Class Projects from the Leading Undergraduate and Graduate Programs (Allworth Press, 2003). For the second edition the syllabus section remained, while the interview section was removed to make room for new essays. Some of those are retained in this reconfigured volume.

The third edition includes over a dozen new essays as well as a new structure. The syllabus section is gone (a revised Teaching Graphic Design is being worked on). Ten new thematic sections have been instituted for greater scanability. Nonetheless, the fundamental idea of this book remains and can be paraphrased from the 2005 introduction:

Taken as a whole, this book is both a white paper on the state of today’s design pedagogy and a potential guide for both student and teacher searching for viable methods and progressive ideas. Read individually, each essay offers possible models for individuals and institutions. As a guide it reveals how educators navigate an ever growing and complex field. The Education of a Graphic Designer ultimately reveals a commitment to methods that provide encouragement, inspiration, and insight that will be a solid foundation for future generations of designers on which to continually learn.