[FPO]

Uncle Bill, this is what I do

Many years ago, my dear, now-departed, Uncle Bill was visiting and, knowing I was “artsy” (his word, not mine), asked to see some of my work. I proudly showed him a book hot off the press and an issue of a monthly magazine I design. 

“What did you do?” he asked. 

“I designed them. I design magazines, books, posters, brochures—whatever comes into the studio.”

“But what did you do? Did you do this illustration?” pointing at one in the magazine.

“No. I assigned it and worked with the illustrator on the concept.”

“Did you take any of the photos?”

“No. I assign jobs to photographers or use what the editors send or figure out what stock photos to use.”
“And you didn’t do any of the writing.”
“No.”
“So you didn’t actually do anything.”
“Well, I designed the overall look. I take all the text and pictures and figure out how to turn them into something that looks good, that someone will want to pick up and read.”
“But you didn’t do the drawings, the photos aren’t yours, you didn’t write it. You don’t actually create anything.”

Wow. Talk about deflating. I wrestled with whether Uncle Bill was right. I’m a pretty decent photographer and draw hubby Ted’s and my annual holiday card, but in my professional work I rarely provide the ingredients for my projects. In the magazine, I get a 6.3-point line of type on the masthead: “Art Director: Sharri Harris Wolfgang.” In contrast, a byline is on every story, a credit line is on every photo—even the ones that are only usable after some judicious cropping or discreet Photoshopping. 

I’ve come to terms with not doing the doing, knowing that bringing together the various pieces into an attractive, unified whole is an art unto itself. Think of all the photos and illustrations that go unseen and all the words that go unread because the presentation is dull, clunky, ugly and/or illegible. It’s not unlike cooking—individually, many of the ingredients taste good. How they are brought together, though, is what turns them into a dish that’s inedible, okay, or really delicious.

Thankfully, magazine editors seem to appreciate how useful we designers are, that we are an integral part in creating a successful product that people will want to read—even people like Uncle Bill who don’t realize they wouldn’t bother if it didn’t look so good. —Sharri Wolfgang

p.s. Coincidentally, an editor friend emailed as I started to write this. She recalled when I told her of this exchange with my uncle, and thought I’d appreciate this photo from her Facebook feed. Perfect timing!

8 Responses

  1. Having attempted to design printed pieces in the past and having offset printed badly designed pieces in the past (not by me), I can appreciate the choices that graphic designers make- the decisions that work and the ones that don’t work. Graphic designers, please don’t bring me a design that has 6 pt. Bodoni type reversed out of a full page of solid black ink. Thankfully, I’m retired from the printing game.

  2. Thanks for your great story! I love the picture at the top and laughed at the one on the bottom. A wonderful artistic creation!!

  3. Uncle Bill may not have gotten it, but I do! The cooking allusion is so apt. I use something similar in my creative writing classes to remind students that all writers work with the same ingredients – character, world building, description, etc. It’s how we use them that can take a story from the slush pile to publication. Great article, Sharri!

  4. Ditto what Tricia said and what David C said! If we (you) ever get back to real travel again, you could write AND design, and provide photos and drawings for some fabulous articles!

  5. You’re like a film editor who is given all the pieces of the puzzle and makes for a presentable presentation. Amusing Uncle Bill story. Hurry up and retire so that you can design/assemble my memoirs! XOX

  6. Love the Uncle Bill story that illustrates the need for the artistry and genius behind the content and photos. We have seen that first hand and are always amazed at what you can do with what we give you to work with. Our stories and our mission go from good to great with your expertise behind it and the process is easy, collaborative, and fun.

  7. Great story!! When I changed from primarily performing to primarily directing — my mother really didn’t get it. She never got what I did! So I’ve not only been there, I especially appreciate how beautifully you laid it out.

¿hanks !

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