The American modernist movement of the early- to mid-20th century was as complex as it was dynamic. In part a reaction to the European avant-garde, and in part an attempt to establish a uniquely American aesthetic, modernism in America encompassed a wide array of subjects, styles, and philosophies. In discussing American modernism, one is immediately confronted with the difficulty of defining it. American modernists shared with their European counterparts an interest in machines, urbanity, and an embrace of new technology (1). But American modernism, while undoubtedly influenced by the European avant-garde, simultaneously rejected their ideologies. American artists were committed to defining what they saw as a uniquely American form of modernism, separate from that of Europe. In fact, this search for artistic identity could be called “the primary cultural and critical issue of the Post-World War I era” (2).
Perhaps one of the best ways to understand American modernism is thorough some of the works of art that helped define the movement. Paul Strand’s 1923 “Akeley Motion Picture Camera,” Grant Wood’s 1930 “American Gothic,” Diego Rivera’s 1933 “Detroit Industry,” and the 1939 World’s Fair at Flushing Meadows all embodied different facets of American modernism.
"Akeley Motion Picture Camera" by Paul Strand, 1923. Image source: Philadephia Museum of Art online.
Paul Strand, a former student of socially progressive photographer Lewis Hine, not only managed to bridge the gap between photography and abstract modern art, but indeed helped shape the modernist aesthetic for decades. Like that of many of his modernist contemporaries, Strand’s work exemplified the quest for an American aesthetic as he “fought to free his art from Europe, from its suaveness and corruption” (3). Strand believed that only through “purity of use,” or “straight photography,” could the full potential of the medium be realized (4). His 1923 photograph “Akeley Motion Picture Camera” (pictured right) embodies not only his personal philosophy of straight photography, but it also illustrates American modernists’ preoccupation with machinery, technology, clarity and balance. This image is concerned with the formal elements of the machine, and venerates what Strand referred to as the new “God the Machine” (4). This image and other similar images by Strand were, simply put, “pure prayers to machinery” (3). Perhaps more importantly, these photographs helped to establish photography as a medium exceptionally suited to address the forms and textures of the modern machine age, (5) and “would lay the groundwork for the mainline modernist aesthetic values of photographic practice for nearly six decades” (4). Continue reading »
1918 • CWR Nevinson - One of the more progressive designs of the British WWI propaganda campaigns, this poster displays strong Vorticist elements in it typography and diagonal bayonets against the sky (3). The original design was a self-promotional poster made by the artist and later commandeered by war poster artists for propaganda purposes.
The poster holds an unassuming yet highly impactful place in the history of art and design. Created as public display ephemera for a variety of purposes – from product advertising to political campaigning – posters have long provided an economical and visually powerful mode of public communication.
Although poster design was already somewhat recognized within the art world of the early 1900s, its importance as a political tool was established by the ubiquitous government-sponsored poster art of the two World Wars. These posters, both in America and abroad, served a unique and challenging purpose, to “make coherent and acceptable a basically incoherent and irrational ordeal of killing, suffering and destruction that violates every accepted principle of morality and decent living” (1). To do this successfully required refined artistic skill and ingenuity from a broad range of artists.
War posters of all countries and eras are remarkably similar in their foundations, both ideological and iconographical. These posters invariably seek to: improve national morale; urge citizens to enlist or provide financial support for the war; encourage frugality and productivity among the populace at home; promote conservation of resources to provide material support to the war; and discourage the enemy whenever possible (1).
Specific visual devices used to accomplish these goals during and immediately following WWI included: images and/or quotations from beloved national leaders; utilization of culture-specific emotive symbols; memorable slogans; reference to cultural myths and metaphors; semiotic illustration; and dehumanization of the enemy (1). Although the underlying principles were essentially the same, specific styles and aesthetics varied greatly from country to country. Continue reading »
The 1930s and 1940s have been referred to as “a golden age of graphic art in the service of society.” Nowhere is this more evident than in the expansive collection of posters commissioned by the Works Progress Administration (WPA) under the administration of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. (5)
1934 • Richard Floethe - Floethe’s designs strongly reflect his Bauhaus training in such elements as the Stencil typeface shown here, as well as the geometric abstraction and simplification of form. This poster also clearly displays a surrealist influence, and is indicative of Floethe’s willingness to explore creative styles and colors. (2)
These posters were in many ways unlikely candidates for noteworthy design. Created primarily to provide work for unemployed artists, many feared government sponsorship of art would stifle creativity. Furthermore, American design lacked a unified style at the time, instead borrowing aesthetics from European movements.
However, what emerged from the WPA poster division was both creative and innovative, producing a body of poster art described at the time as “more vital than any this country has ever known.” (2,9)
The Federal Art Project + the Poster Division
The WPA was the largest agency in Roosevelt’s New Deal, and it put unemployed artists to work through the Federal Art Project (FAP). As described by WPA official Bruce McClure in a 1935 New York Times article, the primary goal of the FAP was to “provide useful work at their usual occupations for the thousands of writers, artists, musicians and actors throughout the country who have been forced to accept public relief and whose creative gifts have suffered from unemployment.” (8) Continue reading »
There are few, if any, single bodies of work as influential in early 20th century graphic design as the work produced for the London Underground. Ranging from typeface to posters to maps, the London Underground graphics of the 1910s through 1930s both exemplified the aesthetics of modernist movements and helped to shape the future of information design and typography.
When Steven Heller asked philosopher Edward Tenner what he considered the most significant graphic design of the past century, Tenner responded, “For lasting and positive influence, I doubt anything beats the London Transport’s ensemble of structures, signs, posters, publications, and maps… It reflected an ideal of ultrarational, benignly hegemonic public authority… The basics of the design have remained, but the system has not kept up, even if its great heritage has been largely preserved” (1).
Underground Map • 1933 - This is Beck’s first diagrammatic map widely distributed by London Underground in 1933. The simple geometric design is reflective of a modernist aesthetic, and constrains the lines to 45- and 90-degree angles. Even the River Thames has been abstractly rendered as to avoid unnecessary visual clutter. This revolutionary design restructured our visual understanding of physical space and distance, and freed cartographic design from the confines of geographic accuracy.
The Tube Map
Perhaps the most iconic and famous single design piece from the London Underground collection is the map design produced by Henry C. Beck in 1931, and published in 1933. This map, which helped to shape information design for decades to come, has been called “a breakthrough,” “revolutionary” and even “the prototype of the modern map” (2).
As the London railway system grew in the 1920s, the geographically accurate maps of the time became more and more cluttered with stops and lines, confusing passengers in a subterranean system devoid of surface landmarks. Beck, who was an electrical draftsman for the Underground, envisioned a diagrammatic map of the complex maze of rail lines similar to an electrical chart. To accomplish this, he would need to dispose of a certain level of geographic accuracy. In other words, Beck “traded geographical verisimilitude for topographical simplicity and followed a rigid formula: lines ran only vertically, horizontally, or on 45-degree angles” (3). Additionally, Beck represented the stations at an equal distance from one another on the map, irrespective of the actual geographic distances. Continue reading »
I consider myself a fairly conscientious consumer (but I recognize I am still a consumer, after all). I am passionate specifically about food politics, and how our food systems affect our own health, environment, and the well-being of people across the globe. I buy locally, eat ethically produced food products, and make a conscious effort to reduce my impact on the world around me. I buy used items at thrift stores. I minimize my use of “disposable” items by drinking coffee from my own mug, water from a reusable bottle, etc.
That being said, I recognize that a big part of my job as a commercial graphic designer is to fuel the consumer economy. I design ads to sell client products and services. I design magazines and newspapers and websites that exist because of advertising revenue. I design logos and brandmarks that help to establish a brand identity for companies that sell products and services. My clients love me for it. My bank account exists because of it. This is all a good thing, right?
As part of my ongoing education as an artist and designer, I am currently taking a “History of Graphic Design” class at the university. I’m really enjoying gaining a deeper understanding of my profession and its deep social, political and artistic roots. Yesterday we watched the video below, which I had seen before (it was made a while ago) but enjoyed watching again. It’s worth watching and thinking about if you haven’t seen it: Continue reading »
