Things I learned in MADS

14 Dec

One of the most important things I’m starting to figure out about MADS was the reflective side of things: doing and thinking about doing. So as part of the reflection process, here are the most important things I’ve learned in/during MADS:

  • Learning is both a ton of fun and very frustrating. Fun when you’re connecting new concepts, think of new ways of doing things and can almost literally feel new pathways being formed in my brain. Frustrating when nothing seems to fall within the parameters of what I know already, when it contradicts what I know already or when it feels people are speaking a language that I haven’t mastered yet (did someone say Finance 101 in the MBA? Exactly the same feeling, everyone spoke Finance and I struggled to catch up. Learning new languages by now is not becoming easier, but I’m getting used to the process!).
  • Notebooks rock. Keeping a notebook and recording the journey of my research, the ideas, thoughts, insights and disappointments has been so valuable. And imagine my delight when Steven Johnson in his latest ‘Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation‘ points to keeping a notebook as being very important for connecting ideas and creating new ones. I’m now almost surgically attached to my notebook and won’t leave the house without one. Why didn’t anyone tell me before what a joy a notebook can be? Why is it that artists and designers get taught this, but not MBA’s (or normal people)?
  • Keeping an open mind is harder said than done. But so worth it when you manage it! I had to force myself to stop thinking ‘Stop it! This will never make any money! Go do something useful!’ for about the first 6 months. The idea of ‘beginner’s mind’ in Zen Buddhism is something that I’ve actively practiced during MADS and I feel that I sometimes get the hang of it.
  • I am capable of more than I think I am. Or thought I ever would be. And I’m more patient than I thought I was.
  • Practice. Artists and designers talk about their practice, about their craft, which is something that I hadn’t encountered before. The notion of conscious and reflective practice, improving from where you were yesterday, building on thoughts and learning from them (and this is where the notebook comes in handy), and failing as part of the process, rather than just getting a grade* and moving on was really an eye opener.

* full disclosure: I don’t know any of my grades yet. But I know I passed the course. Hurrah!

The end of the beginning

02 Dec

I’m getting close to the end of the beginning. In autumn 2007, after having finished an MBA earlier that year, and started a job in a small brand consultancy where I worked very closely with a team of (very good and very patient!) designers, I decided I wanted to find out more about the design process and I searched around for courses and settled on a part-time MA in Design Studies at Central St Martin’s starting in Jan 08.

Now, almost 3 years later (I had to take a year out due to personal reasons), I’m about to finish. This weekend I’ll be installing my final exhibition, along with 62 classmates, and that’s that. The end of the MADS degree, the end of a whole new beginning, a whole new set of experiences and ways of looking at the world and solving problems. And man, have I struggled at times, since a lot of what I was pushed to do (and was pushing myself to do) was so far beyond what I had done before or what I had grown comfortable with. More reflection and lessons learned to follow in future posts but for now I just wanted to mark this moment of almost-being-done. And to mark the end of a formal beginning (but only the very first baby steps as a designer).

Looking back over my course handbook, I was struck by this passage

‘This interplay between ‘responsible economic’ and ‘responsible social’ contribution summarises one of the key agendas that is at the heart of the MA Design Studies…. serious research, soul-searching questions and the application of your imagination are the stuff of our version of productive change – not the production of empty style.’

Keep fingers crossed for me that all goes well!

Everything is going to be alright

23 Jan

Tate britain This past weekend we caught the Turner and the Masters exhibition at the Tate Britain before it closes at the end of this month. I liked it, there was some beautiful work on display (and ironically enough, I preferred the masters to Turner half of the time). And at the same time I am incredibly frustrated (and not just because we weren't very smart in going to the exhibit on a Sunday afternoon a few weeks before closing which meant that some paintings weren't visible because there were hordes of people looking at it). 

I'm disappointed and frustrated because I think most exhibitions don't do enough to draw people in. Think of an interesting idea for an exhibit, do all the hard work to get the paintings together, commission text and images for the catalogue, set up the shop and order merchandise, add a section to the website, order the audio guide et presto. And mind you, that's a lot of work right there, a whole heck of a lot of work. But it ain't enough. Here's what I'd like to see happen:

  • I want to be able to prepare more by listening to the audio guide beforehand (and I don't mind paying money for the file) and downloading it to my iPod
  • I want to read more, and see more, about what I'm about to go see. Give me more background, put some of the catalogue up as pdf's, set up a wiki or point towards information I can use
  • I want to read what other people thought of the exhibition and add my own thoughts, to help make future exhibitions better
  • Why not enlist the visitors in creating a catalogue of the paintings? A good curator pulling together a great exhibition is great (and for instance, the current Sacred Made Real exhibition shows passion and care in how the curator put it together) but why not tap into your audience? They collectively know a lot and would love to share it methinks.
  • Put the lectures/podcasts that accompany the exhibition online.

I have to admit that I think exhibition visitors, me included, are lazy. We hear about an exhibit, everyone else goes, we go, we see, we buy and walk away. If we're lucky we enjoy. And we might learn something. But that's it. It's time to reinvent museums and exhibitions. I've been reading on the museums of the future and done a bit of collecting of thoughts around this and I can't wait to put some of it in practice, and I know it'll all cost money but it's well worth it, I'll predict. Now, to find a museum who'll be the guinea pig (Tate, National Gallery are you listening?).

An innovation in books

22 Jan

DLinhand1
 And I don't mean e-books. The prospect of e-books frightens the life out of me, quite uncharacteristically since I normally love my gadgets. As a book-historian my heart bleeds at the thought of paper books disappearing, of generations growing up without the consolation and delight of paper books. The medium is sometimes the message, or at least an important part of the message, and I like the paper medium. Plus, if everyone's reading e-books, how can I snoop and see what people are reading on the tube? 

No, I want to highlight another bookish innovation: the Dwarsligger. It's a book, a good old-fashioned paper one. But with a twist. Almost literally. They're half size paperbacks, on bible or onion paper, and flipped sideways so once you open them it's the size of a paperback (if you want to see more, check out the video). It's cute, it's handy (fits into my coat pocket), it allows me to read on the tube without having to stick my book in someone else's ribs. And it's a great new take on the book. If you read Dutch and live in the Netherlands, buy one. And let me know what you think. 

Focus, people, focus!

05 Jan

4176307833_3d5534a978_o Last year around this time, I decided that my motto for 2009 was LEARN, and boy, learn I did in 2009. The year didn't quite go as I had planned or could've expected and that taught me a lot. Learning to deal with unexpected events, learning to let go of some things and to hold on tight to others. I had to put my MA on hold for a while, which wasn't an easy decision to make, but definitely the right one. I'm picking it up again next year and am already looking forward to it.

So for this year, I decided to think about what I want the theme for this year to be. After a bit of to and fro with my partner-in-theme-crime Farhan (who set his own theme also) I decided that my theme for 2010 is FOCUS. 2009 taught me that life is wacky, wonderful, mysterious and filled with unexpected surprises. Sometimes it felt like too much was happening at the same time, and that I lost focus somewhat. So this year, that's what I'll focus on: focussing. Do one thing at a time, and do that with the utmost concentration, mindfulness and attention. More of less at any given time. Focus on what's most important, and not worry about (most) other things. One thing at a time. My mum was right (as she often is). So there you go: focus, people, focus!

And, yeah, I have a bit of a bad hairday in this portrait. We created personalised baubles for the office Christmas tree, and this is what I look like. Well, according to my colleagues at least.

Happy 2010!

01 Jan

Happy new year 2009 2010 From a nice and chilly winter-y London (though no snow, sadly) I wish you a very happy, loving and health 2010!

Delight and money: the story of a panda USB stick

07 Dec

Panda_usb … also known as the USB stick I paid a premium for. Why did I pay a premium for something that is a prime example of a commodity? You can pick up USB sticks on every street corner. There is only one thing that you think about when you buy one: what's the storage capacity and how much does it cost. Or I should say 'how little does it cost?' since you want the most storage for the lowest price.

So why did I pay a premium for this panda USB stick? Because it delighted me. It made me feel like something that is by definition a commodity doesn't have to be dull. That I have a choice to bring a smile to my face with something as humdrum as a USB stick. I felt I was choosing a utility based on something other than most storage for the lowest price, instead I was making it on how much delight and joy this would add to my life. There is beauty and joy everywhere, if you choose to see it and seek it out. Even in USB sticks. Let this be a lesson for all commodities. Seek delight, surprise and beauty. Find it and you will find people willing to pay a premium for it.

Do Lectures videos now online

09 Nov

Come and get 'em: the Do Lectures videos are starting to be put up on the website. I can particularly recommend Uffe Aelbeck, Geoff McFetridge and Tony Davidson. Every Thursday they'll put up some more. Keep on coming back for more.

Do-lectures, last but not least: Adam Lowry

06 Oct

IMG_7098 Last (well, for me, I left a bit early) but definitely not least was Adam Lowry, one of the two co-founders of Method, which could be described as a cleaning products company, but one that is turning the category upside down. Adam's talk was the most dear to my heart because he talked about a topic which I've been thinking about lots lately: the design of business.

He thinks business is an opportunity to change the world for the better, and that you can make 'change by design'.

He said they love it when their business model gets copied, because that will create a new (and hopefully better) state of equilibrium. If Method brings out a product that is better for the environment, and P&G copies that, it's good for everyone.

'Don't make the consumer sacrifice, make the product better!'

About change: 'Start small, to prove the business case, and then scale it up.'

The most important skill a business needs is DESIGN. The definition of design is changing: it's going from being mostly concerned with aesthetics to design entire processes. Currently design is about the present tense, in the future we will need to think about yesterday, today and the future (something he calls 'design karma').

Who is a designer and what needs designing is changing: everyone = a designer and everything needs to be designed.

Little do: think like a designer, even if you're not formally trained as one, you'll be able to make change better that way.

Big do: 'help me redefine design'!

Books are good for my soul

05 Oct

Sometimes you love doing something. Really, really love. For
me it’s books and reading and being in bookstores and buying books and
collecting books. It’s not just something I like, it’s something I’m
passionate about. When I feel down, I wander into a library, a bookstore or
perch myself down in front of my bookcase and after a while, life is manageable
again. Books are good for my soul.

Even though I’m passionate about books (heck, I have 1.5
degree in book history), I sometimes forget. For a long time sometimes. Life
takes over, screams out at me to take care of other stuff and I do. And then I
forget about the consolation of being around books and the thrill of reading
them. It becomes buried under day to day life. Then, all of a sudden, and
usually what feels like a coincidence, I stumble upon my first love again. I
walk into a bookstore, get transported back into the safe haven books offer and
become entranced all over again. I browse, see new books and familiar ones (am
I the only one that judges a bookshop by a small number of books, if they have
those, they’re a good bookshop, if they don’t, they’re not
very good?) and breathe paper and ink.

This happened to me this past Sunday. We wandered into the
Holland Park branch of Daunt and as if by magic I rediscovered my passion for
books. Strangely enough, that makes the rest of life more interesting and
alive and Technicolor too. The passion transcends into other areas of my life.
I’m not quite sure why this surprised me, since this has happened many
times before. And it doesn’t really matter that it did surprise me. What
matters is that it worked. There’s a little extra magic in my life. And
another book (you didn’t honestly believe I could walk into Daunt and
leave without a book, did you?).

Natasja Giezen

'To be a person is to have a story to tell' Isak Dinesen