Showing posts with label design. Show all posts
Showing posts with label design. Show all posts

Resignation letter

Dear Client,
A doctor has a thermometer to assess a patient’s fever, an accountant has a calculator to see if the numbers add up, but I have no tool to objectively assess the ‘beauty’ of my work. As soon as my product transcends its functional use, it become harder and harder for me to explain you why it came out the way it did. I can easily confuse you with loose jargon, on the volume of spaces, the juxtaposition of forms, the dialogue of colors and textures, but the fact is, I did it because it felt and looked ‘right’. But what this ‘right’ is and how ‘right’ is ‘right’? I don’t have an answer to these questions and I sincerely hope I never will.
The first thing that they taught me at design school, was not sketching, it wasn’t drafting and it certainly wasn’t how to make 3D models. . They yanked me out of the pre-concieved notions I had of the world around me, and forced me to start seeing the world anew. I felt like a child again, sitting on the terrace gazing onto a sunrise as if it was my first time, looking for faces in passing clouds, bewildered how the sky changes to a different ‘blue’, every few hours. This process of clensing and sensitization was the first step in the making of a designer.
Noticing and paying attention to the forms, textures, the colors, the aromas in my surroundings made me aware and humbled by the creative prowess of nature. It was this exposure that provides fodder to the imagination and the work that I do. There is an old adage amongst writers, “A man can only write what he knows”. I feel that It holds true for any creative person. My memories, both successes and failures, my relationships, my travels have all enrichened me and manifest in my work in ways I still don’t understand.
I see an imperfect, an incomplete world, and work hard each day trying to make this feeling go away by ‘designing things’ to correct/ complete it. You look at magazines, billboards, televsion soaps, movies, and compare my work to established master pieces, passing fashions and slam me for being non-conformist. But I hope you do realize that works yous swear by, design movements like Modernism and Minimalism which ‘seemingly’ inspire you, were all once eccentric. Most designers shy away from taking this road less travelled and I have always held it against them. But as I have gained experience, both proffessional and personal, that resentment has begun to wear away. Negotiating with economic constraints, unrealistic deadlines, strict design briefs, unyielding clients, etc… and still having one’s vision realized in the final product (how ever diluted) is difficult enough!
This project has been a test(ament) of not only my creative abilities but also of my professionalism. It seems that the only way out of this deadlock is for me to bow out. I am a youg man (young enough to afford a few mistakes!), brash and arrogant, who actually feels that he can shape this world. Hence, I would like to most humbly resign and distance myself from this project.
Yours sincerely,
Aman Sadana

Manoj Ki Dukaan

I often wondered what happened to Manoj. Where did he go? What happened to the biscuit jars that lined at the front of his shop. The friendly smile he would give me when ever I forgot to bring money for the Atta biscuitsI so very loved. He knew I’d come back tomorrow, and I knew I’d find him in the same garage which had been his shop for as long as I could remember. I still recollect the shameless guilt with which he’d recount the current gossip doing rounds of the mohalla.

Well, that’s before the winds of change. They swept some of us to the top of the Delhi’s elite, while others were brushed under the carpet, unforgotten, uncared for. The opening up of our economy in the 90’s heralded unprecedented change. Branded shoes, T-shirts, which I had to wait an entire year for, making, correcting, rec-orrecting lists of things I would mail to Santokh uncle to bring when he came for his annual visit to Delhi.; were suddenly available in show rooms all over Delhi.

Then came the corporates & their malls, bringing there brand image, brand identity & marketing strategies to take over the Indian consumer. I wonder if Manoj and his tea stall ever figured in the basket of opportunities they brought with them. The taste of his biscuits soon became a thing of the past as Cheerios and Chocolate chip cookies became the treats me and my friends craved for. In retrospect it seems as if these ‘benevolent corporates who came with a bag of goodies, to entice a specific clientele of fools who gave up on things they hitherto cherished to clamber on to a pedestral, a status they now craved. The mirage, the glitz they brought with them has worn away, on me at least.If only Manoj knew what wonders neon-billboards, attractive shop fronts , optimizing display area meant, my be he would have saved his business. May be, may be not…For I am talking of a man who was quiet, who was humble, who never had to fight for a business which ran on goodwill more than money, while shopping malls today can be best described as, “In order to get noticed , size must be oversized, garish in order, in color, and thrust far out, high into the sky, so as to out do the other leads to excess that shocks the eye, maximizes visibility’. I wonder if Shopper’s stop would ever lend me 10 rupees, if Big Bazaar would ever take a packet of chips back because a week later I realized that I had brought the wong flavour. I wonder if….

I often go to shopping malls, which promise to be Singapore in Gurgaon or Dubai in Noida, and in them I secretly look for a ‘Manoj Ki Dukaan’. For a shop keeper who knew who I was; how much sugar I liked in my tea; which TV shows I like to follow. But I often end up in a glitzy Barista or a CCD paying 50 rupees for a chai which is hot, missing warmth of a shop, and an age now bygone…