Socialist Designers is a collective of politically conscious graphic designers who have agreed to follow “an indisputable set of rules”:
1. Design must be done on location. “Props and sets” (i.e., stock photographs and illustrations) must not be brought in.
2. Design must be done in spot colors. Four-color process and varnish are not acceptable.
3. Photoshop filters and any other filters are forbidden.
4. Design must not contain superficial elements.
5. Temporary and geographical alienation are forbidden (that is, that design must take place here and now).
6. “Genre” design is not acceptable.
—Montreal, Fall 2001
Editor’s note: Fabrizio Gilardino is an Italian graphic designer currently based in Montreal, Canada. In October 2001, he founded the graphic design collective Socialist Designers.
VV Who are you? How many people are there in your Socialist Designers collective?
FG (chuckles) I knew you would ask that. Honestly? I am the main guy. Our collective is very loose and flexible. There are a few people gravitating around me but they’re not involved as much as I am. In a certain way, it is a collective, but at the same time I’m the one maybe doing most of the work.
VV Where did the ideas in your manifesto come from?
FG The Socialist Designers’ “Vows of Chastity” were inspired by the DOGME 95 manifesto written in 1995 by filmmaker Lars Von Trier, the director of Dancer in the Dark, and Thomas Vinterberg, another Danish film director. That was our main influence. What really attracted me to that particular manifesto was that it was a clear and strong statement against a certain made-in-Hollywood ideal. I was also attracted by this notion of it being a “manifesto”—a call for freedom within very strict rules—which is of course a contradiction. But there’s nothing wrong with contradictions.
The DOGME 95 manifesto has been very influential—mostly in the cinema milieu. Even though its vows of chastity are strict, there’s room for humor. It’s the same with my manifesto. I advocate not using stock photographs, stock illustrations, Photoshop filters, and superficial elements, for instance. But I also make reference to Situationist leader Guy Debord by signing all my letters with an insider’s pun, “Vive Guy, d’abord.”
VV What is your connection with Guy Debord and the Situationists?
FG There are no real connections. I am familiar with Debord’s writing. He has been an influential thinker for me. More specifically, his critique of everyday life is still very relevant today.
But what really interests me and what I think we should point out is that at the beginning of their critique of everyday life, the Situationists thought that urban planning and architecture were the two disciplines that were the most compromised with the bureaucracy and what they called the “Society of the Spectacle.” But it’s important these days that we also think about the role played by graphic design and the advertising industry. I think that, today, those are the most compromised disciplines. Those are the fields that more than any other convey certain messages coming from the dictatorship of the market.
VV For someone not familiar with Situationist ideals, your Socialist Designers Manifesto is totally obscure, arbitrary—dictatorial, even. Do you find yourself having to explain what it all means, or do people who are part of your collective know what you’re talking about?
FG Yes, sometimes I do have to explain. People react in a funny way, asking, “Why should I follow those rules? I like Photoshop filters!” Or, “Why shouldn’t I print in four-color process?”
VV So, what do you say?
FG My explanations are twofold: first, there are political aspects—they’re quite clear and obvious—but at the same time, I also have aesthetic concerns. I grew tired of seeing the same genre of graphic design over and over. The introduction of computers has played a major role in the homogenization of graphic design. I’m constantly exposed to things that all look the same—that bear certain common traits—slick stuff everywhere.
In our collective, we’re tired of being dismissed as minor-league players just because a large amount of what we do is silk-screened, for instance. It’s by choice that we tend to use two- or three-color spots and cheaper papers. Yet the reaction is like, “You don’t run a big studio, you don’t have the budget to do four-color process, that’s why you advocate ‘chastity.’”
Yet my clients are all smart—they come from the cultural sector. I’m working for quite a number of theater companies, dance companies, record labels, independent choreographers, and members of the new music community here in Montreal—composers and musicians.
VV Can you make a living? I’m not even asking you if you are getting rich—but can you survive with those ideals?
FG I know, I know.…It has been a problem. It’s getting a little bit better since last year, when I started to teach typography. But if I were to work only for those not-for-profit clients, it would be a lot more difficult.
I work alone, and with such small budgets it would be impossible for me to hire anybody else. Sometimes I’m working with illustrators or people on very specific projects. But most of the time I’m a one-man studio, or whatever you want to call it. I prefer the word “atelier.”
I don’t really see myself as a professional. I really have problems with that term, anyway. I’m more of a “craft” person. I prefer that term because “professional” almost immediately means someone who knows much more than he or she does.
VV My last question is about the word socialist. Does it make people uneasy? Do they even know what to talk about?
FG Yeah, I know. We were kind of careful about that in the sense that…we are aware of the fact that this term could be used to create misunderstandings and problems. We are socialists, but we are not attached to any institutions. It’s our desire to act in the original sense of the word.
We are socialist because we have social concerns, because we are interested in a very specific way of thinking about life, about a better life. Being conscious of the fact—and I guess that’s very European—that anything you do in a certain way is political. Every time you talk, every time you buy something, every time you apply certain principles (conscious or unconscious or whatever), you make a political statement.
I really have problems when graphic designers say, “I’m not into politics,” or, “Politics bother me,” or, “I’m not interested in it.” That’s so absurd to me. I can’t relate to this way of seeing things.