➜ Imagine Coca-Cola. And you, a designer. Now imagine they make an offer you can’t refuse. With such a huge amount of money before you, what would you do? Needless to say, you would unhesitatingly take it with your eyes sparkling, your hands trembling, and your tail wagging. This is THE project. That dream project you always dreamed about back in your university dorm while sketching some out-of-this-world ideas for your soon-to-retire professor. It’s a big project with an equally big budget. And it’s coke, the average’s favorite beverage! A nice name to add to your profile. Who in his right mind could resist such a sweet offer? It’s tempting enough not to even consider whether you actually need it or not.

Then if you have the guts to ask Adbusters, the famed anti-consumerist organization, for advice, they would say, ‘Fuck it!’ And if that seductive sum of money still bothers you, they would say, ‘Fuck the money!’ As crazy as it sounds, that was exactly what Jonathan Barnbrook did.

On July 2, 2011, Bangkokian designers were blessed with a lecture by this renowned British typographer. An event initiated by Anuthin Wongsunkakon of Cadson Demak, co-organized by BITS MMXI, and hosted by the International Programme in Communication Design (CommDe) at Chulalongkorn University; with workshop for the CommDe and Industrial Design students ran by Santi Lawratchawee and Vorathit Kruavanichkit on the previous day. That Saturday was certainly a memorable day. Thousands of people were cramming into the campus, photographers were roaming about, ready to fire their Canon at a moment’s notice. Students were all dressed up neatly with their make-up perfected to an outrageous degree. They all came, on this day, for one reason—to attend the University’s graduation rehearsal… But there it was, the ‘What You Want Is Not What You Need’ lecture by Jonathan Barnbrook, right at the center of the hectic campus.

Compared to the rehearsal, it was a tiny event. Nevertheless, the auditorium was fully packed. There were foreigners and Thais, teachers and students, as well as design professionals sitting among the crowd waiting for the show to start. After the initial greetings by Anuthin Wongsunkakon and Mali Chaturachinda, followed by an introduction from Juthamas Tangsantikul, the Director of CommDe, our main speaker took the stage.

‘I believe design should make the world a better place,’ stated Barnbrook in his first few minutes of his talk. Generally speaking, it pretty much sums up the way he approaches design, the projects he initiated, and the clients he works with. The statement itself, is not original nor revolutionary and many designers in the past and present have said something similar. The difference though, is in the ‘better’. Better in what sense? To make the world more beautiful? To make life easier? To encourage good taste? To create a system that governs a collapsed state? As an audience sitting among the quiet crowd, listening to his philosophies and beliefs, I couldn’t help but concluded that for him it is a matter of conscience, consequence, and compassion, which are obviously reflected in his fascination with politics. For Barnbrook, it seems like every design decision is a political move. Would it be right or wrong? How will it affect society? And overall, will it make the world a better, or perhaps gentler, place?

Considering such moral questions, one would wonder whether he accepts any commercial projects. After all, he has a studio to run and employees to pay. Most of his clients are not giant multinational corporations but museums, musicians, artists, and charities. Certainly, these projects are not as profitable as those commissioned by competitive companies. But sometimes, they allow a more fruitful and collaborative relationship between the client and the designer. His works for Damien Hirst and David Bowie are great examples of such. Barnbrook had worked with Hirst on projects such as Pharmacy, the restaurant with a medically artistic attitude, and Damien Hirst Monograph. Both are considered exceptional art/design pieces and the monograph was featured in MOMA’s books of the 20th century. Nevertheless, our typographer mentioned that he didn’t really earn much from these projects. But profits aren’t always measure in terms of numbers, are they?

As a designer whose interest lies heavily in music, it’s hardly surprising to find him designing record sleeves. His works for David Bowie have also gone beyond the common marketing aspects of design, creating an intense visual voice well-deserved for the music itself as seen in his vandalized images of sacred paintings and the omission of the artist’s name on the Heathen album. This is, of course, far from trying to be commercially successful. It is always intriguing to see graphic design projects realized not as a means to serve marketing but as a sincere expression of content, which in this case is art. This is a rare sight in Thailand, where even the majority of designers themselves perceive design as merely a business tool.

There was quite a variety of projects brought up during the talk, ranging from corporate identity design, VJ works, to film experiments, but he is still best known for his work in typographic exploration and typeface design. Nowadays though, one could spend the entire day browsing through fonts available on the market without even getting near the end of the list. So why design a new typeface? Well, that’s what a typographer does for a living. Sometimes, however, it may be worthwhile to think critically about it, as such thoughts would give one a more thorough understanding of one’s own work. Reasons may vary from a designer to another. For Barnbrook, it’s an expression of language, a means to improve society, a transformation of the past into something new, and a way to create beauty. These reasons are probably more than enough for any designer to justify the creation of a new typeface. So where does he take his inspiration from? Everywhere. And not just for the initial concept of the typeface but right down to details of the letterforms. This may also be true for other typefaces that were brought up during the presentation such as Exocet and Prozac, but the one clearly illustrated this notion was Mason. The characters of Mason (originally named Manson, after a serial killer), for example, may appear unified as a whole but the ideas behind the structure of each letter are diverse—with characters such as ‘A’ coming from classical architecture, ‘M’ from the shape of a mosquito, and ‘t’ from the cross. Interestingly, its use is as diverse as its sources—from cute innocent Snow White posters to horror film logos like Exorcist: The Beginning. As for the Walt Disney’s poster, one could safely assume the designer did not know the typeface’s original name since such a revelation would have definitely given him second thoughts.

Like every lecture, there’s a Q&A session prior to the closure, albeit a quiet one. Some of the questions raised were straightforward, while others were more on the sophisticated side. Nonetheless, all were answered thoroughly. There was, however, one particular question, or rather moment, that sparked my interest. An audience asked Barnbrook, ‘What is the concept behind your promotional poster for this lecture?’, adding that he even found the type difficult to read. It was a simple question that required a simple answer. But instead of narrating that awe-inspiring concept, there was a slight pause in Barnbrook’s response. That little hesitation could signify totally different things depending on how you perceived it. On one hand, you could say Barnbrook did not have any ‘concrete’ concept behind it. On the other hand, it showed how much we, Thais, are obsessed with the idea of ‘concept’, to the extent that we often cross that fine line that divides concept from bullshit. Barnbrook’s design, whether there is concept of any kind, and no matter how illegible, is still Barnbrook. It is a representation of him. In reality, concept can seldom be grasped logically (unless it’s unimaginatively blunt), it’s the emotional experience that actually fuels our comprehension. Like good foreign music transcending the boundaries of language, it touches you without the need of translating.

After several questions, the crowd began to quiet down—a sign that marked the end of the lecture. With all the usual thanks and a round of applause out of the way, the audience got up and started for the exit. Little by little, the once fully packed auditorium was left with only a few groups of friends and staff, apparently waiting for a photographer to finish shooting our guest. Some just chat away to kill time, catching up on what their colleagues are currently doing. Others stood around, perhaps looking for a chance to converse with Barnbrook. And finally, with everything done, it was well past evening and time for a casual dinner, or for some, time to head home.

While waiting at the table for the food to be served or sitting in a taxi staring out the window, the stories narrated over the past few hours would naturally begin to sink in. Then one might wonder what we truly learned from them. What we heard concerned politics, society, humanity, morality, and culture as much as they were about design. These are issues most Thai designers rarely think about as they spend their days meeting deadlines for countless commercial projects, leaving them ignorant of another path which may exist. Whether Barnbrook’s lecture can light the road less traveled, no one knows. But there is one thing for certain, our Thai design industry needs that road as much as it needs travelers to take it. Or else, we will just wither away in a consumerist culture where value is only crafted to impossibly satisfy our endless desires without questioning its necessity.