NEARLY FINISHED

So why did I come to Brighton? I came because I felt like the work I was making in the states was becoming increasingly myopic, esoteric, and un-engaging. I came because I was frustrated with the institution, and how it gobbled up my life, with how design-absorbed I had become; and how the inevitable side-effects of an art institute education: pretentiousness and an inflated ego, had begun to affect my psyche.

Why am I glad to leave Brighton? Because I came expecting this magical cross-disciplinary approach to a designer's education, a synthesis of subject matter rather than a specialization and fragmentation of curriculum. What I expected and what I experienced were two very different things. Regardless of my preconceived notions of this place, it has taught me the kind of lessons that stick with you forever: ones that you learn yourself, through trial and error, experimentation, and failure. So, in a strange way, even though going to school in Brighton was more akin to a vacation than the chaotic educational rodeo I experience at KCAI -- I've found that this lack of structure, of professionalism, of any semblance of a liberal arts education, has taught me that enthusiasm, passion, and motivation are qualities that can not be taught, but are inherent to success. I've also learned to importance of living life and making work second. Without a frame of reference to create from, work becomes irrelevant, anachronistic, and elitist. I'm attracted to design because of its social implications, because of its relevance to people in the way they relate to information, objects, the world around them. Modern art is dead. In the words of Banksy, "[...] never has so much been used by so many to say so little." Art has become so incredibly specialized and compartmentalized that the only people who benefit from it and relate to it are artists or designers themselves -- A narcissistic and napoleanic climate that I'd much rather not participate in. Even though some artists may call design "Art's little brother," it serves a real purpose, and has the power to make non-artists, even non-art enthusiasts see the value of a more complex beauty: of organizing the world of things, of a sense of the unity of form and function. Getting back to the point (haha), I've learned that design is a bottle that you put things into, not a thing in and of itself. It's a methodology, a way of thinking, an attitude, a spirit even. At the Art Institute I was trying to make design a thing in and of itself, not realizing that the most poignant and groundbreaking solutions are ones that use design as a language, not an object -- ones that relate to people in a direct, entertaining, and novel way that crosses disciplines and subject matter. In the words of Sim Van Der Ryn, "It is time to stop designing in the image of the machine and start designing in a way that honors the complexity and diversity of life itself [...] design is a survival of all species."

Despite the tone of the passage above, I've also learned to stop taking myself or my work so seriously. If design is meant to emerge from a sense of play, formality is the antithesis to an environment capable of engendering this type of play. This is not to say that formality and professionalism are not important skills of any practitioner, just to say that the glorification of them can only create an awkard and impersonal environment of self expression, one that hinders reflexive, spontaneous, and fun work.

And finally, I've learned the importance of designing with the general public in mind. Not that I don't want my work to be appreciated by fellow artists and designers; It's just that I'm much more interested in work that everyone can relate to and appreciate. Im sick of this image of the artist/designer as a social outcast/genius -- as a person who can't relate to the general public, and makes work only as a means of satisfying himself, or the narrow community that understands him and his avant-garde nature. The general public doesn't know the distinction between art and design, so why have we allowed higher-education insitutions the power to specialize them. The most meaningful solutions are ones that address design in an artful way. Ones that see these not as divergent disciplines, but as inherently interconnected practices with slightly different outcomes.

Anyway, Im ready to come back to KCAI. I miss learning about things other than design, and having a normal schedule, and actually doing work. Even though I might moan in the process - the sense of accomplishment at the end of the semester is really nice.

I'll continue to use this blog as a way of documenting my internship at Topshop, as well as wrapping up my semester here after my assessment this Friday. Images of my work and of the school will come in a later entry - once the business of this week subsides.

Miss you all!