The Bloggomist: Design in the Blood
Design Opinion

Styles tend to not only separate people — because they have their own doctrines and then the doctrine became the gospel truth that you cannot change. But if you do not have a style, if you just say: Well, here I am as a human being, how can I express myself totally and completely? Now, that way you won’t create a style, because style is a crystallization. That way, it’s a process of continuing growth.

It’d be easy to launch into a clear-cut analysis of the difference between style and substance based on the heading and words above. Yet I’m not quoting Dieter Rams or Mies Van Der Rohe, or any number of influential designers of the 20th century. They are the words of Bruce Lee.

Separating the elemental themes of my life has never been my kind of thing, and I have therefore been influenced and inspired by a broad level of input which has subliminally crept its way into my work and creative journey. The reason why I chose Bruce Lee around which to center this discussion is two-fold. His fame was heavily based on style and flamboyance, a surface layer which made him an international pop-culture icon. His physical prowess and technique made him a force to be reckoned with both on and off the screen. Yet it was his deeply insightful, introspective and philosophical side that has always rung home with me. While his writings came from the perspective of the martial arts, the parallels between his art and my own are interesting. The surface layer can be misinterpreted as something else entirely.

Design falls when it’s synonymous with style, and while I’m not here to denounce style as a whole, I think it’s worthwhile defining the difference. Industrial Design by definition should serve a purpose other than itself, but this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have objects that are simply beautiful. However, design and style can easily blur the line between superficial elitism and something that actually enhances our lives, and in that case it can separate us from the intended experience. Perhaps the best example can be found in the realm of celebrity design, which is governed by relentlessly useless objects by people like Karim Rashid and Philippe Starck. I’ll save my diatribe on them for another day but they do have a knack for over-complicating simple products under the ‘designer’ pretense.

Karim Rashid and his Kant stools

Lee occupies an important place among inspirational zeitgeists since he observed that style separates people for the wrong reasons. While I look at this from the context of an Industrial Designer and the literal comparisons between style and good design, I also relate it to the differentiations we make between our respective fields, or ’styles’ if you will. It often happens in, but is certainly not limited to, the creative industries as a whole. As I mentioned in my introductory post of Design in the Blood, these divisions are part of an old system that builds walls around creativity and that if broken down would lead to open collaborations and knowledge-sharing; a fluid and meshed way of doing things instead of clunky and old-fashioned.

It is easy to typecast martial arts as simply a method of fighting, rather than a guiding force for a purposeful life. Looking deeper can reveal much more, and for my part it has served just as much purpose as the technical skills that are necessary to be a good designer. However, to arrive on the same plane as Lee’s mental and physical harmony is going to take just a little more work…

A good martial artist does not oppose force or give way completely. He is pliable as a spring; he is the complement and not the opposition to his opponent’s strength. He has no technique; he makes his opponent’s technique his technique. He has no design; he makes opportunity his design. One should not respond to circumstance with artificial and ‘wooden’ prearrangement.

– Bruce Lee, 1940-1973

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To see more from Leon Fitzpatrick, visit: http://evilmonito.com/author/leon/

Published on 25 November 2009 | |