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Photo courtesy of Blue Ridge Community Church, Lynchburg, VA
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The New York City MTA subway map (fig. 2) by Massimo Vignelli is revered for its systematic and minimal design.
Design matters, just ask Milton Glaser. His iconic designs have graced the branding of corporate America and advertising for much of the 20th century. In understanding the primacy of every great design, Glaser says, “Always start with the audience. If you don't know who you're talking to, you can't talk to anybody.”
We often think of design merely in terms of something you see printed on a piece of paper, graphical in nature. But consider how design impacts our everyday life. The way a chair is shaped to either support or invoke back pain. The curvature of a pen or computer keyboard and its ability to provide ergonomic comfort or fatigue. Humanity is at the heart of great design.
Take color for example. A recent study from the University of Texas confirmed what many have long believed: white, beige, and grey walls are debilitating to workplace productivity and personal mood. Simply painting a single wall blue, or shades in the blue/green family, make exponential boosts in how test subjects responded. And this is universal among most humans.
Design elicits a response. It's human interaction at work, making us feel, act, and think in specific and directed ways. It communicates intent, often with stunning clarity and simplicity. These are tenants well-respected designers know and embody in their work, and from their philosophies we can draw upon timeless lessons and approaches for putting the same principles to good use.
Shape and Function
Fallingwater, one of Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpieces of what he called “organic architecture” (fig. 1), remains to this day a striking symbol of simplicity and intent. Many have said that Wright's treatment of space is a textbook example of integrating a structure into the existing atmosphere; in this case a house built over a natural waterfall in the woods of southern Pennsylvania. With this he said, “Form follows function. The shape of a building or object should be based upon its intended function or purpose.” In this case, the natural stone façade, stepped layers, and line place Fallingwater into the wooded terrain with ease.
Applying this notion of form and function in our own church setting might be easier than we think. Stage designs often come and go, whether for special events or at regular intervals throughout the year. While the physical architecture of a particular worship space is permanent–think walls, floor, ceiling, and other structure–the way we treat and integrate a design into the space can be intentional. What are we really doing with a chosen set on stage? What is the purpose or intent we are trying to communicate? Throwing up eye candy, dangling tchotchkes and hoards of wooden pallets, and simply filling space may be a solution, but have we considered the function of our decisions?
Basic shapes draw specific emotions from onlookers. It's why traffic and instructional signs exist the way they do. The same reason corporate logos are carefully crafted in their shape and line. Whether the scope is circular, angular, or linear, each plays a pivotal role in the perception and emotion conveyed. A few minutes spent talking emotion and intent on the front end of any design will immensely improve the way shape factors into decisions. And it will singlehandedly transform the congregation's experience.
This is not a matter of what's right or wrong, simply the awareness and thought behind those decisions. Milton Glaser summed this up saying, “As a designer, we need to be conscious of the consequences of what we transmit to each other…it's not telling people what they should be doing, but rather being conscious of what they're doing. There's a big difference.”
The Consistency Dilemma
Think about the last time you purchased a product online. Did you pay attention to the various menus and steps in the process? If a well designed website did its job, then you felt completely at ease and clearly directed. This can't be said for other experiences. Confusing menus, trouble deciphering the next step, then followed by utter displeasure and canceling the order entirely. While we may not pick up on the consistency used by designers in a website, for example, that's the entire point; done well, we shouldn't notice anything.
Working in a wide range of areas, from graphic design, product packaging, and furniture, Massimo Vignelli is most revered for his 1972 reworking of the New York City MTA subway map (fig. 2). Although the map underwent numerous updates, including a special 2008 update by Vignelli himself, the map is still used today and regarded as a stunning example of systematic and minimal design.
In his own words, Vignelli describes his philosophy of design syntax.
“The consistency of a design is provided by the appropriate relationship of the various syntactical elements of the project: how type relates to grids and images from page to page throughout the whole project. Or, how type sizes relate to each other. Or, how pictures relate to each other and how the parts relate to the whole. There are ways to achieve all this that are correct, as there are others that are incorrect, and should be avoided.”
In the world of modern concert staging and lighting design, LeRoy Bennet has established himself as one of the most sought after minds. With clients ranging from Beyonce, Nine Inch Nails, Paul McCartney, Prince, and The Super Bowl, Bennet employs a Vignelli-like approach to his work. In a 2009 interview, Bennet said, “My design is about architectural emotion. You see something and it evokes some feeling relating to the music, the artist, and the vibe. It's not just a structure or design thrown up. It's for a purpose and there's a reason why it looks the way it does…an expression of what you're trying to present.”
Bennet's designs hinge on purpose and intent. Conscious choice regarding color pallet, consistency among the use of lighting fixtures, and restraint in only using what is needed and no more. While these pieces take time, conscious thought, and discipline, they are the exact principles and questions Bennet has learned to ask and in return shaped the approach, emotion, and impact of his designs. They are also the same questions you and I can ask in our own work.
Finding Inspiration
When you ask better questions, you typically arrive at better answers. People like Glaser, Wright, Vignelli, and Bennet all, at some point in their life, learned how to ask better questions. And not only was it learned but they continued to do so throughout their careers. While it may seem trivial pouring into the lives of people who design maps or homes for a living, the cross-disciplinary benefits gained are too numerous to count. Often the best principles for growth in our prospective careers can come from the most unlikely of places. Masters of design know their audience. And when we, in our own work, learn who our audience is, that's when the magic happens.
