At the start of a project I often begin by creating a mood board. Mood boards are an excellent tool for designers to clarify a design idea and "feeling" through a coherent visual vocabulary. It is also a great tool to help convey an idea visually to an audience (client, collaborators, etc.). For example take a look at the pin up wall created by Scholten and Baijings. I was fortunate to meet Carole Baijings and hear her talk about the creative process in their "atelier-way-of-working." Collage and color plays a significant role in their material rich creative development process. The production of allot of material and visual studies generates new ways of envisioning form and surface designs.
Artists, designers, and makers of all stripes have a lot of different tools and techniques to help brainstorm ideas at the beginning of a project. Some tools that help clarify concepts, and the look and feel of an initial idea include design methods such as Mind Maps, Framing Questions, and Mood Boards.
The mind map is an intuitive concept development method created around a central idea. It typically takes the form of a diagram representing words and images, arranged around a subject with ever-expanding branches that lead to free association of related words and ideas.
A mind map may help in organizing a haphazard collection of related ideas into a clearer direction for a project. When I don’t know where to begin, I often use this exercise to help me choose a path to take.
www.mindmapping.com I typically do this exercise on a blank page in my sketchbook, however there are some interesting digital tools that enable this task such as www.mindmup.com, and www.mindlyapp.com.
Make better decisions by using questions to understand context, and identify needs for a given project. At the start of a design process, it is easy to lock onto a solution before we even ask a question. I like to spend some time doing desk and field research including interviewing and observing the people and living systems that may be impacted by a design. Armed with new insights, we can craft a well formed series of questions that open up rather than narrow down the possibilities for innovation through design. Take your initial ideas generated with a mind map, learn more about this through research, and then reframe your design ideas with a well formed thesis. Try the “How Might We?” method used by product designer to help expand the possibilities for design. There is an excellent Design Challenge Framing worksheet (pdf) to help frame a design challenge. Learn more
Gathering visual and conceptual elements together in a mood board serves as a fundamental transition between an initial thought and a first draft of a design language. It may be more beneficial to think of mood boarding as a means of organizing a visual language.
There are many digital tools and platforms that can be used to create mood boards. A few digital mood board tools worth considering include: www.canva.com, and Adobe Spark.
I personally like to do them by hand and source my images online and in magazines, or through my own photography, painting, drawing and collage. The important thing is to begin, and find your own way of doing things. I am primarily a visual thinker, so I draw, collect materials, and compose collages to find form and give direction to the path that my work takes at the beginning of a project.
Moving beyond words and experiencing the world through our sensations can spark insights that we may act upon through the design and making of a thing. The ephemeral nature of a doodle, a sketch, a collage of images, a collection of artifacts, cumulatively can reveal a trust about the agency of things, which can then be employed within the design process. Mood boards offer visual, material, and metaphorical insights on a philosophical level about the manifold meanings of form within the various contexts in which designers and artists operate. This visual metaphor also invites a common ground for conversation and understanding among those that I collaborate with. On a practical matter, the elements of design such as color, texture, form all may be composed through the collage and sketches that culminate in the mood board and this helps me to begin a project with more clarity.
Some things to consider when creating a mood board:
I collect hundreds of images for a few days, and I pin them all up so I can see what formal patterns emerge. I have a habit of collecting far too many images then I actually need for a project. A greater the number of images can result in information overload and that usually leads to an incomprehensible mood board. So, I find it useful to edit my collection down to a clear color palette, a coherent body of forms, textures, photographs, and illustrations, sometimes even typographic samples find their way into the collage if it's relevant. I try to keep words to a minimum but I might include a sentence of two if I think it will help when I present mood boards to clients.
The primary goal of using mood boards in the creative process is to respond to a particular problem. This problem might be poetic as well as formal or even practical such responding to a design brief. That’s why not all images deserve to be on a mood board.
Stepping back and taking time to look and then edit images helps to clarify what the messages and feelings that I am trying to convey are. The next step is to remove half of the images in my collection, and then repeat this step until I have narrowed it down to 20-40 images that I can then compose to help tell a visual story. The goal is to have images that help you capture a clear formal language and simultaneously convey an emotional feeling.
> Use hierarchy and scale to emphasize a visual idea.
No matter what format you choose, it’s important to select images that will act as the anchor for the design. Creating a visual hierarchy through scale and juxtaposition is a good way to direct the eye. Larger images draw more attention than smaller ones. Smaller objects can complement larger ones conceptually and formally.
> Extrapolating feeling through form
Choose images that help establish a shape, form, color, rhythm, texture, illustration or photographic style, as well as the emotional sensibility of all of these elements together.
> Expressing meaning through materials
For a variety of reasons, there has been a shift in people’s relationship with materials, from design to manufacturing, with materials and making methods starting to reclaim their central role in the creative process and beginning to dictate form rather than simply adapt to it. In this digital age, this haptic impulse might be a nostalgic desire to get closer to the means of production through craft; regardless, the exploration by contemporary makers has reaffirmed the power of materials, which when used early on in the creative process, offer a sense of touch to convey emotion and impart meaning. Therefore, I make use of material samples in my mood boards and this in turn helps me to discover making methods that I might employ as the project unfolds.
> Visual Vocabulary
Sometimes a single composition can encapsulate enough information to build a visual vocabulary with. For example, this lovely snapshot of flowers by Andy Warhol captures the bold form, repetition, and happy sentiment that translated beautifully into an exuberant visual vocabulary for a body of Flower paintings.
A few years ago, I found myself on a very long flight from Saudi Arabia and the Arab Emirates returning home from a project. Tired of reading I put on my headphones and proceeded to watch Mad Men. In the scene pictured I noticed the ceramic coffee cups. Having been trained as a potter from an early age, and familiar with that type of ware, I was reminded of the first time I became curious about ceramics, and design, and how these seemingly common objects connect us to a larger world, and to human history. As a boy, I would sit with my family at the kitchen table and reach out to take a sip from a brightly colored ceramic cup that I’d drank from countless times. The bottom was an earthy red/brown and the body, the surface was glazed white and decorated in yellows, ocher and a floral pattern. There was an outline scratching through the white ground to reveal the clay body below. I found myself fascinated by this seemingly banal “every day” object that I’d never given much thought to before.
Turning over the cup, I discovered it had been made in Trenton, NJ. A place not too far from where I grew up; a town whose slogan had been “Trenton Makes and the World Takes.”
Stangl famous for a type of Faience dinnerware, was America's first open stock solid-color dinnerware manufacturer. Stangl went so far as to Patent their “invention”, in spite of it being based on a tin glaze method that according to scholars like Alan Caiger-Smith, is based on innovations by 9th century Persian potters who added tin oxide to their glazes to opacify them and then paint over-glaze decorations with cobalt, iron, and copper. For over one thousand years, this technique influenced ceramic glaze methods and styles in maiolica, faience and delftware from the Islamic world and Europe across the Atlantic to the Americas.
According to the late potter and scholar Alan Caiger-Smtih, “Traditions are like rivers. The main river can be mapped and measured. Tributaries feed it… it widens and is merged with the sea. Its source is often unknown. Has the idea of a beginning any meaning except as a theoretical point on a map? So it is with the tradition of tin-glaze ware: the main tradition is clear, but the beginnings are lost to history.
The earliest archeological examples can be traced back to the middle east, Mesopotamia, about the ninth century. Tin glaze potteries are thought to have existed at or near Bagdad and on the eastern bank of the Nile River south of modern Cairo, etc., but who can say there were not many others, perhaps more will be uncovered over time. That said, from the sixth century through to today we can trace a fascinating migration and evolution of ceramic techniques across the globe from China, India, Persia, the Arabian Peninsula, North Africa, the Mediterranean, Europe and the Americas.
As we trace this history we might ask some questions such as:
• How do materials, motifs, and ideas travel across the globe?
• What happens when they arrive at a destination?
• How does art from one culture change or inspire the art of another?
• By considering some of these questions, we can explore the kinds of art that may be made when cultures meet.
An interest in the expressive potential of processes and ideas pertaining to admixtures and amalgamations, in materials and concept alike, coheres the creative practices of Stephanie Hargrave, Andrew Cornell Robinson and Ben Pritchard. This is true in a general sense, as they have all been working in such modes for many years. It’s particularly true, however, with regard to their studio production this year, selections from which constitute the materially rich and mystically spirited works that find convergence in Conjurings & Concoctions.
Thick strata of scumbles, spills, brushstrokes, scrapes, drips, smears and scrawls factor into Ben Pritchard’s generously textured oil paintings. These facets of somewhat evasive or unstable facture find ultimate confluence, however, in bold forms that seem to both draw from and manifest ex nihilo entire systems of divinatory symbols, celestial mappings, indecipherable runes. Pritchard’s surfaces might elude, in other words, but his representations assert. Consequently, a small work like Power seems to convey landscape and figure alike as the latter rises through the former, or as the former settles atop the latter — or perhaps the artist’s robustly made marks depict the form of a temple seeking alignment with the stars above. In Debate, background and foreground remain shifty and uncertain in the work’s otherwise formally declarative black and white registers. And in Darkness, a slow-moving circuit of bright yellow marks provides an elegantly brushy, curiously nestling framework for a punchy red orb. Variable saturations and surface treatments yield pared down yet similar results in Pritchard’s works on paper.
Andrew Cornell Robinson works consistently in more media and in a broader range of processes than many artists might work in a lifetime. He’s as comfortable shaping clay on a potter’s wheel as he is filling walls with delicate drawings, binding prints and texts into books, making paintings and sculptures for installations, and devising video and photo shoots for narrative-driven exhibitions. Several of these aspects of his work are on display in Conjurings & Concoctions. Ultimately monotypes, the artist’s works on paper in the show, operating in primary-colored concert with one another, evidence a more layered process upon closer scrutiny, revealing themselves to be monotypes executed atop serialized prints of texts and small drawings extracted from an archive of sketches and notes. Quite materially different are Robinson’s ceramics in a series he calls My Cup Runneth Over, in which an almost alchemical admixture of colorful glazes, stains, glitters and gold overlays encourage these ostensibly empty cups to fully spill their guts. Exquisitely beguiling in form and material alike, Robinson’s Memento Mori sculptures present as exuberant apparitions, iconic conjurings of mysterious deities whispering forth from tree hollows in enchanted forests.
An enchanted forest, perhaps, is just the place where Stephanie Hargrave’s sculptural amalgamations would find themselves right at home. In her works presented in Conjurings & Concoctions, Hargrave combines stoneware, encaustic, metal and other media to create objects and ephemeral images that are vaguely familiar as forms of known things, but that ultimately resist recognition as specific things or known forms. They are organic; they are inorganic. They are human-hewn, perhaps utilitarian masses; they are the settled matters of nature’s timeless exhalations, growths and primordial gases. Hybrid 25, for instance, is a petrified bubbling puckering out into the open to exhale, or it’s the vacated dwelling of an ancient mollusk. Flashik might be a rattle-like musical instrument for a mysterious rite, or it might be a battle-worn weapon of warfare. It might also be some undying organism whose length of tooth has left it biding its time with arduous, slowly gnashing bites. An especially peculiar object even in the midst of so much strangeness is Hargrave’s Bucaro. Executed in clay and encaustic, it appears as a crimson-saturated, drippily drenched, cardial tissue-like issue pumping lifebloods into and all over itself, and maybe also into its kindred others all around it.
As you poke about in the imagined realm of Conjurings & Concoctions, it might be wise to watch your step and mistrust your eyes — while listening closely to the trees and peering up, here and there, at the skies.
M. David & Co.
Changing attitudes and emerging social behaviors in food preparation and the social and cultural rituals of eating have lead to changes in the way tableware is made and used.
In this short course we will explore historical and contemporary forms of table ware design. Through lectures, class discussion, research and making through drawing, modeling and prototyping in clay we will consider new categories of tableware and new roles for familiar as well as sculptural pieces. If you’re wondering what are the most appropriate forms and designs to use in your work, you’ll gain a better understanding of what’s current and gain an appreciation of the challenges and opportunities makers confront in their creative practice.
Tuesdays July 07 through August 25, 2020. 11:00 AM-1:00 PM EST Level: Intermediate / Advanced Space is limited
In this workshop I will focus on paper templates, slab, coil, and pinched forms used to make everything from plates and bowls to mugs and handles. We will discuss shapes as well as approaches to design, ranging from the practical and ergonomic to the poetic, and playful.
For this workshop, you will need a computer with Zoom. Students are welcome to act upon the project prompts and try the techniques with me as we progress from week to week. I have found its best to use the class time on zoom to sit back and take notes. The sessions will be recorded and sent to students for future reference. I’m excited to invite you into my studio to share craft strategies and answer questions about the process of making. I will send an email with a Zoom link with details to registered students before the Tuesday workshops.
This series of workshops requires a few tools. This list of suggested tools is not required for the workshop but may help when you try it on your own.
Scoring tool (a fork will do)
Metal or rubber rib
Small container for water
A bat or board
Paper for templates (Tarpaper also known as “roofing felt” can be found at any hardware home center. Typical grades are 15 lb. and 30 lb. weight, which indicates the thickness. I like to use the sturdier 30 lb. grade for making templates for large forms.)
Utility Knife and/or Scissors
Cutting Surface (you can use a board or a self-healing cutting matt)
Robinson’s artwork examines and highlights the historical, collective, and often cyclical nature of the visual language of revolution and unrest. His multidisciplinary work is currently showcased in an online-only exhibition, “Andrew Cornell Robinson: The Time of Protest and Plague,” now featured on our WING project space and Artsy profile. View work from the exhibition on Artsy
Studio in the Time of Protest and Plague.
June 10, 2020 Interview with Andrew Cornell Robinson
By Michael Gormley
Living in a city driven by artistic ambition, “What are you working on” is the go-to question meant to quickly distill the daring of one’s aspirational reach, the aesthetic value of its form and the intent and likelihood of financial success and lasting fame. In the upheaval of social unrest and pandemic, the question sizes up how one is to staying alive. Over the past three months Equity has been posting text, images and videos of pandemic projects its member artists have been engaged in.
At the onset of the corona plague in NYC, I found myself having a recurring dream that prominently featured Phrygian caps, the red liberty caps worn by radicals during the French revolution. A symbol which has its roots in ancient times when it was worn to signify a formerly enslaved person's freedom.
In any case the image and dream seemed significant so I began to draw a series of Phrygian caps with gouache, pastel and ink on hand made paper.