Jim Northover

This week marks the opening of an exhibition at Kemistry Gallery in Shoreditch, which I have been organising in collaboration with the Gallery and the British Film Institute.

This text I wrote for the press release and invitation gives some of the background:

No graphic designer has made a greater impact on the world of film than Saul Bass. This exhibition brings together a collection of his film posters, film titles and film festival posters from the Lloyd Northover donation to the British Film Institute. The BFI’s Poster Archive has kindly loaned the exhibits to make this show possible.

Saul Bass’s work is instantly recognisable for its directness, its simplicity and the way it makes its meaning felt. Breaking all conventions in the 1950s and 60s, Bass virtually invented film titles as we know them today, and he was the first to synthesize movies into compelling trademark images.

In a period when graphic imagery can be so easily manipulated electronically, Bass reminds us that a strong idea is always at the heart of a great design. His work, as reflected in this exhibition, is as refreshing today as ever.

www.kemistrygallery.co.uk

There’s a famous line from Virginia Woolf, the one that declares: ‘On or about December, 1910, human character changed.’ Those who have studied the text often suggest it refers to the onset of what we know as Modernism, and the drawing to a close of the Edwardian era. Woolf claimed that the nature of human relationships changed around that time, and with the benefit of a hundred years’ perspective, it seems that there is little with which to argue. Political, social and sexual relationships had moved on. The way also opened up for different modes of creative expression – in writing, fine art and architecture.

Is an equivalent shift taking place on or about this December? This year, the year of Wiki-leaks, seems to suggest that the internet is coming of age politically. As no information is now sacred and everything shared, what effect will this have on our lives? I think the debate will continue to polarise opinions between those for whom freedom of information is always justified, and those who want to maintain privacy of information. In this debate, technology wins hands down. Unless the internet is actively suppressed, the flow of information will continue to pour forth. This is the reality of the ‘information age’.

Perhaps we can say in few years’ time: “On or about December, 2010, the meaning of ‘information’ changed.”

Restaurants, markets, museums, dance studios, rehearsal rooms are all venues I've visited with fellow students from the Prince's Drawing School over the last three months. The aim of this particular course is to see, react to and record people and their interaction with work places and open spaces.

The bar and restaurant: 1 Lombard Street

Part of a presentation given at a Brunel University Business School seminar in London on 10 December 2010

Apocalyptic scenarios are being hastily sketched out right across the higher education sector. The burning issues of funding and student fees cut right at the heart of current systems of provision. But, whatever results from the debate, the entire sector is sure to emerge as something different, not least in the way that future generations will regard the whole institution of higher education and the fundamental purpose and worth of universities.

For a very long time now there has been a consensus that universities are ‘a good thing’ and that, in line with everything else in a modern democratic state, they should be available to all, in principle. All, that is, who have the intellect and potential to profit from higher-level scholarship and the experience of academic life. More than that, for recent generations ‘going to uni’ has become a rite of passage for many, as students make the transition from teenage to adulthood.

Widening access has been a key strategy of government, based on the perceived importance of the ‘knowledge economy’ to the UK’s success in the world. Now things have changed, as we know. The whole idea of a university education is being re-examined, with a focus on who pays for what, when and how.

The questions I am asking, when the dust has settled and reforms implemented, are: what do universities now stand for, and how do they differentiate themselves in a market-oriented world?

To find an answer, as with every brand, it is always worth looking back, even before we look forward to the future. Brands are the embodiment of multiple interactions and experiences with something, be it a tangible product, a service, a company or an institution. In this sense universities are no different. Time can be a great brand builder. For a thousand years our older universities have been developing and evolving to become what they are today. Tradition and heritage (the words we use to reflect the meaning embedded in these institutions) are an irrefutable part of how they are perceived. Such brands have a patina – ‘the soft glow…produced by age and polishing’ as the Oxford Dictionary informs us.

It is equally true that the old universities still carry forward behaviours, cultures and patterns of operating that in many ways remain unchanged. So powerful was their influence in the 19th century that the great metropolitan universities copied them, and the ‘redbricks’ of the mid 20th century followed them, who, in turn were the aspiration, if not the inspiration, for the polytechnics that ‘traded up’ to university status. The curious thing is this: would any university look and operate the way it does, if it had been designed to meet the needs of the up-coming generations of school leavers? I doubt it.

So, in looking forward we see, in the very near future, some challenges that lie deeper than the immediate debates around funding and fees. What should a truly modern university look like? Excellence in scholarship and research perhaps, but for what purpose, for whom and for what end?

In a very real sense these questions are not ‘academic’. They are simply the questions being asked by 16 and 17 year olds as they contemplate their futures. Without ready and credible answers to these questions, universities may cease in time to command the respect and investment they have received in the past, nor will they attract the students that make their existence possible.

In the next few years as universities struggle to survive and thrive, how many, if not those at the venerable end of the spectrum who will continue to enjoy a level of patronage, will be looking radically at the ways in which they deliver teaching and conduct research?

Much as it may go against the grain and the natural instincts of academics and university managers, it is instructive to look at the successes and failures of corporate institutions. Many great names, and brands, have gone to the wall simply because, like prehistoric creatures, they either did not anticipate change or could not adapt when change was forced upon them. Most successful businesses have dramatically transformed their products, services and operating models. While universities may seek to demonstrate the many ways in which they have embraced technology, for example, they operate in a fundamentally unreformed environment.

It is time for some universities to break cover, to offer high quality, relevant education that makes sense for tomorrow’s students. Realistically, this may not happen overnight, but a radical move on the part of the braver in the sector could signal the need for repositioning their brands to communicate their difference in intent and action. No longer would there be, as now, a succession of ‘me toos’, all competing with each other to provide qualifications of equal (and sometimes dubious) value and commodity style delivery, a pattern replicated in how they describe themselves and articulate their brands. The opportunity for innovation is clear. Step forward the first university to challenge the status quo and show the way ahead.

Introductory note in First Edition, a publication by graduating students of the London College of Communication MA programme in Design Writing Criticism 2010

Design famously defies definition. It's all around us, impacting our lives on a daily basis, but it's hard to pin down. So maybe we should explore rather than attempt to define, in order that our multiple explorations allow the territory to be mapped out and examined in some detail, and to see what we can discover.

The projects and theses that form the culmination of the course do just that: they explore the boundaries, probe the surface and examine what lies beneath. Culture and commerce, lifestyle and technology, politics and gender, text and image, environment and fashion are scrutinised with forensic intensity. From the virtual world of social networks, video games and hacking to the tangible forms of places, products and the human body, the writers tackle a wide range of topics and emerge with a complex array of takes on design and its contemporary practice.

The evidence shows that design is an expanding universe, that the verities of physicality are being matched by a world in which meaning derives from every form of expression or communication, where systems and networks drive the flow of information and interaction, and where changes in society and the environment provide an ever-present background.

The need for interrogation, for commentary, for critique has never been greater, we would argue. Without an informed debate we risk much, but with understanding and imagination so much can be achieved. The writers graduating from this course can be both advocates and challengers, campaigning for design's positive influence on our lives and warning us of its potential dangers. Perhaps more important than the topics and debates themselves are the sounds of divergent voices. From different backgrounds, cultures and disciplines these voices grow ever stronger and speak more clearly as they move from the shadows of academia into the full light of day.

It was not so long ago, although it seems like a lifetime away, the UK was celebrating design and its contribution to the economy and cultural life of the country. Attending a reception at Buckingham Palace exactly six years ago today was evidence enough to me that design had both an influence and a power base.

Now design is on the defensive again, mainly due to the fact that current Government policy has virtually by-passed it from an educational point of view. With science, technology, engineering and mathematics being privileged over the arts and humanities, design finds itself, oddly, on the wrong side of the line. The whole future of design hinges to a large extent on its ability to be a bridge linking the traditionally imagined dichotomy between arts and sciences. There is an intrinsic absurdity in separating the 'two cultures', a debate that Snow and Leavis had long ago and is no longer relevant in the current century.

It has been widely reported that the creative industries come only second to finance as the major contributor to the economy, and that in the worlds of architecture, fashion and interaction design UK is one of the global leaders. This not to downgrade the strength of our engineering, bio-science and digital technology sectors, but merely to highlight that design, however you define it, still makes an impact for Britain, working as it does in sectors such as these. A recent survey in the Evening Standard named several designers, arts and media folk as key influencers in London, along with a handful of politicians, one retailer, one banker and no industrialists. The same publication also reported last week that one economist at a leading bank had identified three components that contribute to growth: cash, commodities and creativity. As the Standard's reporter Anthony Hilton commented, the UK is noticeably short on the first two components, so it's creativity that counts.

Perhaps some good things will emerge from the Government's scaling back of support for design education and the design sector. If that does happen, then it would be evidence of creativity in itself - doing more with less. However, a more likely outcome is that design education will be driven into the arms of the corporate world for financial support, sponsorship and resources. No doubt, a 'real life' injection might be beneficial, but, equally, objectivity will be compromised. That's inevitable. Likewise, with the Design Council: its new charitable status may throw up interesting and productive linkages, freeing it from its pact with the Government, but these are uncharted territories and it will need great clarity of purpose if it is to make a successful transition.

In the meantime, the implications for design are not auspicious. Perhaps one day there will be recognition that design can be a central part of our sustainable development as a nation, and one that connects the creative and critical spirits of the 'arts' with the objectivity and pragmatism of the 'sciences'. I look forward to the day when the penny will drop. We may need another royal reception to celebrate it!

Completing a post-graduate degree in Design Writing Criticism has taken up most of the summer and beyond. In 2008 I joined the first part-time group on the first course of its kind in Europe. For me it was an experiment and a leap in the dark; after all, 40 years separated my graduating in design from the same institution (then London College of Printing) from my enrolment as a post-grad student in October 2008.

Until then it had been virtually impossible to take the time out to do something that needed such a significant level of commitment. However, 'succession planning' had been underway at Lloyd Northover for some time and, by 2008, we had arrived at a point where it became a realistic option for me to engage in something new, while continuing my role as chairman and consultant for the business.

My motivations were mixed: time for a new perspective, the opportunity to 'back-fill' my practice experience with a more theoretical context, a chance to exercise and enhance writing and critical skills, a different kind of challenge. Two years later it's still too early to reflect deeply on the experience, but I know it has helped me to change gear in my working life and to discover some new avenues. Where these might lead, only time will tell, but that is hardly the point. The course was its own justification.