1.21.2011

GOTTA GETTA GATE


Even if you don't have babies. The design of this gate is spectacular. There is something especially appealing about the tranquility of the repeated horizontal lines. Perhaps the appeal stems from the pleasure of knowing there is something so serene and harmonious to be found in the realm of loud, messy babies. It is also a reminder that sometimes it doesn't take very much to get away from bad design.

FRIDAY CAT BLOGGING

1.05.2011

DEEP THOUGHT

ANOTHER CEO GOT BORED


Well. It is usually the case that bringing simplification to a company's visual identity is a good thing. The new Starbucks logo might be the exception.

Of all the Starbucks logos above the nicest is the first one on the far left. It is in an earthy coffee brown color in a friendly, imprecise, stamp-style print with a unique image (nude sea nymph/siren) that communicates authenticity and a tie to soil. But alas, this is too authentic for what is now a 16,858-store chain. So let's go with the next best thing. Give it a slick, solid type treatment for the brand name with a slick, solid icon. The most recent version did just that and so settled in to a strong brand positioning in our commercial landscape.

Uh-oh. The CEO got bored. The company now wishes to "expand their business" and so nixed the name in lieu of what Starbucks executives are probably now mistakenly lauding as a cleaner, modern, and more visually-appealing design. Wrong.

The nymph alone doesn't communicate a "starbuck." This new design vaguely references the sea (Starbucks originated in Seattle and the name refers to a character in Moby Dick). And it references previous iterations of itself. Not the product. I don't see any beans, steam, cups etc.

Final verdict: the new logo is too pared down. And they're going to need to write their name out on something at some point.

1.04.2011

TECH PORN: TIES THAT BOND

installation, Riflemaker Gallery (April 2007)


A humorous art piece by John Maeda. From what seems to resemble something of a love knot, we can infer some kind of union created by two white Apple ipods. They are connected to something by one wire cord that vanishes into the wall. The juxtaposition is such that the tilt and downward position of the ipod on the right resembles something of a nuzzle. Alternatively, the tilt could be seen as an aggressive ram, which would be underscored by the screen images that reflect a jostling.

Since Maeda is a scientist-artist, let's go ahead and make some geeky interpretations. An initial reaction to the above observation is seeing the two as people. Even when objects do not look like people, we can find it easy to imagine what types of human characters they could have. A couple. Male and female. One interpretation is labeling the sex of each ipod as male and female using a genetic, chromosomal lens where XX is female and XY is male. Hmm. Now mathematically, the x-axis of a graph is horizontal and the y-axis is vertical. Since the ipod on the left has many vertically-oriented bars of color we could deem this male (linking to the Y in XY). Or, more simply, the vertical lines of the left ipod could signify height and the horizontal lines of the right ipod could then refer to width. Biologically, men are taller than women and women are "wider" through their curves.

Through this deliberate arrangement, Maeda could have implored viewers to personify the technological devices. By doing so we see ourselves in the technology. It is an extension of the self. A viewer of this exhibit literally sees him or herself in the screen's reflection. Could Maeda be probing the observation of the loyal, unshakable attachment people have with their personal technology devices (PDAs, mobile phones, smartphones, ipods, etc.)? Mere plastic and metal. A lifeless 4.7 ounces.