INTERVIEW WITH DOUGLAS BEVANS — Laura Varzgalyte and Will Quirk — Summer 2010.

Will: So [Hato Press are] doing a book, and generally it's about processes that we've found useful and sharing those. So we've all submitted to the book, everyone in our year. But there were other things – as Laura and me both did bookbinding as part of our projects, Ken wanted us to talk to you about the process and about your views on things to include in the book, as an interview or conversation. So we've made a list of questions, and if you'd like to sort of talk with us about those…

Douglas: I've been told I can do that well! My wife says I never stop!

*Laughs*

W: We've been thinking about the talk you gave as well, so there're some things that cross over there.

Laura: Yeah, because we found it very useful - at least, me - because I haven't done anything like bookbinding before, or haven't done anything with multiples. And your talk was very useful because I found that the notion of 'making as thinking' was so important and actually it was about everything I experienced when doing bookbinding. But the questions are actually about something else – a lot more about bookbinding itself because the publication is called 'Hands On'.

W: It's like an extra section really – who else is doing interviews…? Well, (to L) you've interviewed someone for paper…

L: Mm, paper sellers… But somebody talked with people from the printmaking [department]. I think Alex, who made clocks…

W: So if we go through the questions…

D: Yeah, anything you want… Well, the thing that interested me about the talk was that I'm drawn to making things but I hadn't thought more than superficially about why – I'd just assumed that it was another part of what I liked. And I started reading some of those things. I apologise for my talk– I think it was a little boring. But I got carried away about the research. I sort of treated it like a research paper! And so I was reading all this stuff, and whilst doing that, then I was getting the feeling that 'oh, for some of us, making is kind of in the bone'. I mean, that's a little too mystical, but it's more on that side than 'hey this is just something else I like'. It's like how you approach the world. And when I was talking to Annette – from illustration, she's up here a lot – we were talking about making last year. She interviewed me for a thesis which was about making. And I came to feel then that it was almost like: if you go over and touch things, you're already pre-disposed toward the world. It's like you see it but you wanna touch it too, and it's like a disposition toward the world. I wanna pick that up, turn it over, see how it's made, maybe take it apart if possible and maybe put it back together if possible! And all that kind of stuff, and it's so deep in you, that that almost comes before art.

W: The way your mind works?

D: I think, yeah. And that was what fascinated me about that woman that was talking about 'making special' and how deep that was in social… You know it's almost like that 'History of the World in a Thousand Objects' that's on the BBC – where people are just moved to pick up materials… And Burnowski, like I was saying, too – just the way your hand teaches your brain, not the other way around. You think your brain understands the world and then tells your hand what to do but, in fact, your hand tells your brain all kinds of information that it could never know without…

W: I guess that covers a lot of our first thing we wanted to talk to you about, which was 'what attracts you more so to bookbinding, and physical processes, and manual things – rather than just sitting and thinking'. So yeah, I guess what you're saying is that it's the way that your brain's made up and the way you approach the world.

D: I would think it's a lot to do with that, although I think there's that other thing too – I don't know if you've ever done fine art but – when you can paint or draw anything you want in the world… And that was what I'd done from my education, in fine art – and then I did different things and I began to know illustrators and designers. And I loved the way they had briefs, they had limits, and that there was a structure to it. And in fact, for some of us I think there's more freedom in structure than there is when it's totally wide open. Like, 'go and do anything you want' is one kind of brief but I'd much prefer 'go do something in two colours, A4, I need 100, it has to be done by Friday and here's the budget'. And within that, your mind starts to really think of…even rebel! – even say 'ah no, I wanna use four colours' or whatever. So I think that is what makes me wanna start with the structure of a book. It gives you something to start with, and then you can say 'I'll make it so it doesn't open the way it should' or something, but having that as part of the brief you set yourself is often quite stimulating to me. So I think that's another aspect of it – you know, when I came around to design and illustration, I also came around to the idea that I really thrive best when there are limitations to push against or to change or alter, or…

W: Especially when that's a manual process, because that's almost the opposite end of the scale to art and doing anything you want, in a way. It's like these processes are already there and you can build on top of them…

D: And you can start out in a kinda mindless… you start with a piece of paper, and you fold it, you tear it, you… You know, that reminds me of the way the whole thing started, where somebody would say 'There's a pile of coloured paper, there's the paste and the glue, there's the scissors'. And you start experiencing colour and things like that, rather than thinking about 'I'm gonna create a masterpiece'. I guess it's the unconsciousness of it too. It means that the thinking can be a little down the line – and I think that's where the thinking belongs. It's a shame if it doesn't come in before the end, but if you begin with an idea… I mean so many students I meet say 'I know what I'm gonna do, I know what my paper's gonna look like, I know the typeface, I know…' But they haven't made anything yet, and so now there's this huge distance between this thing in your mind, and the thing that you're gonna end up with. Whereas if you'd just found the paper, or seen if it printed at 10pt, or how it looked on colour.' You know, if you'd experienced it physically as you went along, then really the two ideas would have grown side by side.

W: So the way you approach a project is, a lot of the time, starting with those processes rather than…

D: Yeah, you wouldn't wanna get too far into it before I'd played around with whatever it was that I was doing – you know, the paper, the paint, or something…

W: So do you imagine the finished object at all before you start making it?

D: I don't think it's that… I'll show you a little thing… I was gonna do this in the talk but I chickened out. See if this makes any sense to you… It seemed like an example of something that… Well, I'll tell you about it while I'm doing it……

*Douglas goes into the office to grab a bottle of water, a tin mug and a plastic cup*

D: We're gonna do a little skit, a little play. Sorry, is this ruining your…

W/L: No, no…

*Douglas stands straight and pours water from the plastic cup into the tin mug on the floor*

D: So, I don't know anything about this, plays or anything, and I didn't have any ideas. So, we had a saucepan, more like a cooking pan. So we just started playing around…I'll surely miss it – it was a little easier to hit the saucepan. So, we were playing around, and we started doing…that. Only the sound was louder than that. And that reminded both of us, through doing this, about when you were young and you had a little tin potty. So we came out on stage, and we poured the water into this pan, and you could tell that people had got it, 'cos that's what it was – especially in America – think, everybody in their cars, and you'd have this old saucepan in the back of the car and when the baby had to go to the toilet you'd put it out there. We'd all grown up with it, so the minute you did that, people in the audience started going 'eurrghh'. You know, you'd seen us pour it from a bottle, into the pan, so then we picked it up and drank it – and then everybody was goin' 'arrrghhh no, that's gross!!' Except everybody knew it was water. So anyway, the point of all of that is that it's not an idea I ever would have come to through thinking – you know, I don't think Howard or I had have thought of it if we hadn't heard that sound… And then, we found that other people had the same association and so it made a fairly funny skit. And I wanted to say then in [the talk] – there are some ideas that you only get to by playing around. At least I do – you know, I wouldn't have got there if I'd sat down and thought of something intellectually clever, or something. Maybe there're associative things… Maybe if you're playing with materials you start to… maybe they're like memories or fee… You know, not so literally but…

W: So do you work backwards almost…? So if you find, I guess, a link back to what your starting point was…

D: I think you do– you find some little thing that can often be missing if you just think. You can often do something really clever that kinda ends up empty-handed, can't you. You know what I mean, you think 'What's wrong with it? It's a good idea and I did it really well', but it just doesn't really have any emotional thing… I don't know, maybe I'm just not a… I'm certainly not a bright person intellectually, you know, I've never done well on tests or any intellectual things like that, so… Maybe it's the way you accommodate to the world, you know: 'How can I get by'…

W: So yeah, I guess it's like a combination then of doing and thinking in tandem really isn't it, and working forward with both of them. I think that's one of the things I've gotta improve on – I've noticed that a lot of the time I do just sit and think or, I do go out and think but it's still not working with those materials and being hands on with the thing. So maybe that's a better way to approach a project…

L: And it's also easier to improvise then. Well, when you haven't thought about it a lot, and you're just trying to make it… And then when you're making, you're just changing… Changing what you've got. If you have thought about that and then you are making, and maybe you want to add something, to change colours or something… But as you've already decided what it's going to look like, you stop improvising.

D: Yeah, I think it's true. I mean, did you say you were surprised that you enjoyed making books, or that it took you by surprise a little bit…?

L: Well, I wasn't surprised that I was enjoying it but I was surprised how I felt about it… How I felt about the objects – not only about myself, and relaxation where you're just 'doing' – but about the objects and that freedom to improvise. And of course that was related to the number of objects, because when I started with the first one and the second one I knew I was gonna bind eighteen more. And then I thought 'Oh, why shouldn't I try the other cardboard? Why shouldn't I try the other paper inside, or a different stitch…?' And I was free to improvise because I had many objects to make.

W: So, I think, getting back to what you were saying about having something to work with in the first place… It's like improvising on guitar as well – you almost have to have that scale there already, you know, with blues guitar and improvisation… If you didn't have the scale you'd have just a bunch of notes that don't really fit together, and you kind of have to have that structure like you were saying.

D: I think that is it, and what happens to you anyway just when you totally mindlessly pick up the guitar and start… I mean, I say 'totally mindlessly' but I only mean in that kind of really strict, rational way of knowing where you're going. But of course your mind's working, and your body. You know, and everything, and you're doing something. Yeah, I think that's a really good analogy. 'Cos you're getting something back from the music and then even if you're not involved when you start… You know – sometimes, you're playing an hour later.

W: Yeah, and I guess 'cos it fluxes doesn't it. You might have a moment of genius, and a great little riff and then at other times you'll just be doing the scale and it'll be really boring to anyone else listening.

D: Yeah, and sometimes you'll just give it up and go off too. But I think that sort of… That's way under-emphasised these days… And as I tried to say in the talk, it's an idea that's gained real currency in fine art – that the thinking is more important than the object, and more important than the physical manifestation of things… And I think now it's an idea that's really getting popular in design. Whereas people used to grapple to make things a lot more… Like if you wanted to print a photograph, it was kind of a long project. First you took the film – you might have developed the film yourself, but even if you took it to SpeedyPrints, you still would take that neg – put it in an enlarger, blow it up… You couldn't avoid being really physical. And even if you were a good designer, and you worked in a big office in New York, there was still lots of physical stuff in the office. And it still had to do with… Pushpin studios, do you know Pushpin? Yeah, it was Milton Glaser, Seymour Chwast, but they named it after those little pins you put in the desk. I mean it was just… There's still a good site actually – probably wouldn't mean that much to you, but there's a nice site in America… It's kind of a notional archive of forgotten graphic arts materials, but it's all the stuff we used to use like cow-gum and cow-gum cement, and beautiful little enamel containers that held that and… Every art director that I knew was just so good with a knife, or could cut out a line of 8pt type and set it into a whole paragraph, or there was a thing that you used to do if you took your job anywhere…

*Douglas gets a square of mount-board from the office*

Say this was a little ad you'd done for Warner Bros., and then you'd paste it on there, you know, all stuck down with cow-gum, with the type and everything… And then you always had a cover sheet – so that was a coloured sheet – on top. And then you went over to the tape dispenser and you got a piece of tape and put it at the top, to protect it while the courier took it over there. And I used to work with a guy, and about seven times out of ten, the tape he pulled off would be just the right length! But I'm sure he wasn't exceptional – that's how physical things used to be…

W: They adapted, I suppose, to doing that all the time…

D: Yeah, and you know, all I'm saying is that – even if you were an incredibly intellectual designer – in those days, you still had a tremendously physical part to your job. Whereas now, with a computer, it sort of takes that physical part out doesn't it…

W: I think that's the next thing we wanted to talk about. That whole thing of how it's changed with the advent of computers, and being able to ignore the process so much now that it has changed, the way that… I think Max did a talk, and he gave a list of all the requirements of a student fifty years ago on the course… Maybe it was even twenty years ago, on our course… And it was this big long list: cow-gum, scalpel, ruler, cutting mat, and even more abstract sorts of things we wouldn't even have heard of now.

D: *Laughs* Yeah, and a type-spec. Have you ever seen one of them? It was just a little plastic thing and it had spaces cut out, and it just helped you to guess: 'If I set this in 10pt this is how wide it'll be…'

W: All that kind of stuff compared to now, where it's just a computer, a notepad and a pencil. It's really strange isn't it. And in fact I was looking through the museum the other day for the first time… And spoke to the lady, and she showed me some photos from the 50's of some people in the same building, with the tutor leading the class and these kids peering round their tutor's shoulders just to see how he was making things with his hands. You know, all that…

L: Yeah, but people are still attracted to bookbinding. And what are the reasons, because before we didn't have any other choice. It was like 'We have to book-bind because we can't just go to the print-shop or somewhere, and get our books bound. And now, people are attracted for some other reasons… What do you think these are?

D: Well… Let me run this by you, and let's see what you think. 'Cos I'd mentioned this guy when I was talking, and his name's Matthew Crawford, and he'd written a book. It had one title in America but now that it's printed here I think it's called something like 'Working With Your Hands'– and 'Why This Makes You Feel Wonderful about the World' or something. But he was saying how artists – and this is something David Pye said too – they both talked about risk. How it's nice to do something that you can fail at. It doesn't sound that nice, but I think we all are used to it. Ever since we started to learn to draw, and then a lot of people just stop: they say 'I can't draw'. And I'm not saying that all of us keep drawing, but we still keep trying to do a really good photograph, and do really interesting work or… And he was saying that if you've got an appetite for that, you're already used to failing, but most people don't wanna have an activity where they can fail completely. I'm going in a couple of days to have a meeting with Alan Baines and we'll talk about my teaching this year. I mean, this is a really common experience all over the world when people get grades or do things, but they're often really hard and kinda subjective… 'Did I do well this year? Was it better than last year?'… It's really hard to know. But if you make a book and comes out good, then it's really rewarding – but if it fails, there's no hiding from it. You know, it's a real mess and you can't dodge it! And I think there's something about that that's quite stimulating – that you wanna try things out – and again, it's kind of in you… But I just wondered if it isn't something like that, if we thrive on that kind of activity of making things. And I think there's that other thing about risk: he was saying… When you work in a factory and everything is set, things can't fail. And really, kind of with a computer, if you press print it's gonna come up over there on the other side of the room or something. It's not gonna fail is it. So that's a very boring kind of work, whereas when you're doing something – maybe you're developing your own film, maybe you're changing the film in your camera under your coat on a bright day… You know, all these things where things might not work, where it might fail… You come up with an idea the night before you hand it in – and you're thinking 'Ah, is this a good idea or is this the dumbest thing anybody's ever thought of…?' And that's quite exciting, that element of risk, and chance to fail, but chance to think 'oh wow, you know, that's kind of interesting… I did something I've never done before'. So I wonder if that isn't involved somewhere, do you think?

W: Yeah, the risk and the chance of… imperfection isn't it.

L: Yeah, that's what I was thinking…

W: Which I suppose, thinking about computers and perfection, and mass-production… We were talking earlier about the difference between perfection with mass-production and perfection with something that's hand-made… And people, almost, expect something mass-produced to be perfect, and they'll send it away if it's not. But if it's hand-made, you kind of appreciate the imperfections and you don't mind them so much…

D: I think some of you do, but some people really leave here feeling really bad because it doesn't look machine made too. Which is interesting to me. I mean, I feel it's sad because… Even the cheapest thing is kinda perfect. You know, even if it's made with bad materials, it's so…

W: You were talking about Muji before, in your talk, I think… How you shouldn't compare yourself to anything they make because it's gonna be completely different isn't it…

D: Yeah, even if you go to the British Library and you check out a book that done by one of the really good bookbinders there repairing books, sometimes the work can be so rough – and you think 'Wow, I don't know that I'd be happy with myself if I did it that badly. I mean I have had help in this area, from my wife who's an artist – and she loves the imperfection of things, so it's really helped me to move over to that side of the aisle… I'm very grateful, 'cos I think that sense of wanting to do everything too well, makes you worry about failing, and then you wanna try something new… But my wife calls me an 'imperfectionist' which is a little joke, and it really is a hugely good thing. And I've been doing carpentry this weekend, and really imperfect!

*Laughs*

W: And I suppose with something like carpentry… Maybe the difference between that and binding a book: you've still got an element there of being a creative person, and having that ability to give something a bit of creative flair whereas, with carpentry and things like that, maybe there's less possibility of that happening. So it's almost like you have to be perfect…

D: It's more common to be perfect isn't it. Although the Japanese have that word for how things are roughly made – 'Wabi-sabi' – and they have a whole area of aesthetics that has to do with things that are a bit off. Well, they wouldn't put it 'a bit off' – they'd say that it's got that extra element that makes things really special…

W: Like a knot in wood?

D: Yeah, and a recognition that all great work has that in there… It goes right across from textiles to graphic design, to music, to how you create a pond or whatever. But it is kind of missing in… But like you said, like we're sensing, computers have influenced you guys a lot more than me, so I didn't have to overcome… And I think that's something to really push against – computers – 'cos you guys are so much more adept with them. Whereas, for me, I probably spent the first 30 years of my life trying to do things more perfectly, 'cos you were really struggling against making good prints… Everything you did was quite difficult physically, 'cos there was no digital. You know, to make a good tape for somebody's birthday, with records and lifting the arm and getting the cues – to make a little tape for someone with their favourite songs on was quite a labour! And colour photocopies were the best you could do to make a little tape-case and everything. It's fun, but struggling against those limits was one thing – but it didn't necessarily make you seek out more imperfection, 'cos there was a lot of that built in!

W: I guess, as well, when you're doing a lot of things – you don't even think about perfection or imperfection. You just do it the way that comes naturally don't you. And I think with us, there seem to be so many examples of slick graphics around, and – with graphic design – everything's expected to be perfect in that way. But then trying to imperfect in a job situation where money's important, and time – if you try to do things that aren't perfect… it's not so good business-wise I guess. So, I suppose: how can you make using computers and working in a modern design-environment… We're wondering how you can make that a bit more manual, and a bit more practically-led…

D: Yeah, I mean, some people are known for that aren't they. So they get away with it – you know, you build that into your practice, where you're known for it. I don't know about design so much… I'm thinking of furniture designers I know, or – like I say, my wife's more of a fine artist so – jewellers, weavers… I think maybe in craft there's still a tradition of making things that are a bit looser. But yeah, that is really hard in graphic design… Even people that are known for a funky look or something… I mean, I did some really highly, highly imperfect calligraphy for Elephant magazine – they've just started it up – and if you look at it, it's the page dividers. The ones that say 'this section' and… So I did it on sugar paper, where the pen kind of blots – I'm not saying it's great, and in fact I thought it was kind of boring – but it's highly imperfect… And the guy, Matt Willey, that I worked with at Studio 8 – that's kind of work that they do a lot. It's stuff that's got a certain edge to it. He worked for Vince Frost, and there was a lot of letterpress that isn't quite perfectly printed, and wood letters and… I think you kind of set out your stall by the work that you show people – when you're freelance – or I guess you gravitate towards people whose work has that quality to you, but I think it's hard at first, 'cos you'll be swimming against the stream and the guy'll say 'What, haven't you got a T-square? Can't you keep things straight?' And I think that is hard, but there will be a lot more of that too, in the world – I think this notion is coming in, that Japanese notion almost, where people are looking for things that are more unique or different or something… I mean, you can tell in advertising… There's a lot of talk about it, where it's like 'You can order a car in any colour and then your seat covers can be any colour and…' You know, you can have really have an individual car! It's kind of laughable but, that's obviously what they're trying to say to people – that you can still be an individual.

W: Yeah, there's that whole thing of customisation, like you say. And it's similar I guess to that idea of finding a rare object… Although I guess choosing compared to finding something and being stuck with imperfection… Having complete control and then having no control over something…

D: Yeah, I wish I had it handy and I wish we could go through it: I think this David Pye book was really good and he was talking about that… It's called something like 'Understanding Design' – it's a very small book… Really interesting guy who taught furniture at the Royal College. I think he's either dead or he's very, very old now, but he was talking about the fact that, until very recently, everything that we really valued in the world – 'til the last 50 years… Everything we valued was hand-made and unique. So, that's kind of it – then we start getting very beautifully made things… You know, Bauhaus, you get start getting furniture with chrome tubing. And it's really nice, but it's not unique… But that's a really new idea. So maybe it takes quite a while for that to… People get used to the fact that 'Oh, I can have a really beautiful thing and I can afford it – which I never would have been able to do if it was hand made…' And at first you really kind of like the fact that yours is really like everybody else's. You've got a really nice pair of shoes, a sharp suit, you've got that chair or whatever. And then maybe that takes a while to wear out before you start thinking 'You know, I kinda like that chair with the broken leg that I got out of the skip last week!'

W: It's like fashion isn't it, now. People picking up old clothes that they find in vintage clothing shops. It's such a craze because it's so much more unique than just getting the high-street clothes and stuff… It's almost this idea of, before, the trend came from the top – the companies chose what the trends were and then it came down. But now, it's a lot more about what the people on the street are wearing, and that kind of goes up. Now, high streets are doing vintage clothing and… So, in the same way I suppose that whole thing of uniqueness coming back – people don't want what everyone else has got, but they want something more…

D: Well, the quality of these things is amazing too. My wife – well, obviously my wife's had a huge effect on me! – we go to this vintage clothing thing and she's bought me some shirts and stuff, and the cotton in this shirt that might be 100 years old – it's more comfortable than anything you can buy now! It's incredible. Sometimes you have this shirt and you just think 'That's really wonderful – and so strong, too!' You think '100 years old, that must be about ready for the bin', but it's really good…

W: Like with iPods and stuff now – they wear out after 3 years and they're meant to, so you get the latest one…

D: Yeah, there's so much that's appealing to that stuff that's, like you say, not the stuff that's fashionable, but stuff that you have to go out and find… And anyway – I think I'm learning, I think I'm celebrating that kind of imperfection, or learning to be less of a perfectionist, but I remember… I mean, my oldest and my best friend since we were in school, he would come and pick me up to go to school and my mother would go 'Gosh, look at how nice Roger looks', and he did! He ironed his own shirts even when we were 8 or 9, and his hair was always combed. I mean he's an architect now so that tells you everything you need to know about him… But, he's still like that! He's just perfect! He puts his shirt-tail in in the morning and then at 10 o'clock at night his shirt-tail's still in. Whereas by the time I've got to the bottom of the street, my shirt-tail's out and my hair's messed up, so… I think maybe some of us are gonna go in those directions. You know, it's in your work even when you don't put it there in some way. That perfection, or that roughness, or that kind of off thing… I've got lots of friends that I think are much, much better designers, who are really good at proportion and when they lay out a page, everything's just right… And yet, they kinda like my illustration but they always kind of wanna make it a little more 'right' in some way. I mean, that's really a pleasure too of working with people… Like, I did some calligraphy for a friend a couple years ago – they said, 'I'm gonna split the money with you, 'cos I spent so long scanning your calligraphy and making it perfect that it's only half yours anyway!' So he took half the thing, which was right, 'cos I just said well 'I'll dash you off some stuff', and then to make it look really proper he spent a lot of time getting it, you know, 'cos he's a real designer. He is a perfectionist, and that's his attitude. But I mean, I think maybe it's more deep in you too – how you resolve those kind of issues…

W: We wondered as well if the way you work linked to your love of travelling, 'cos Ken mentioned to us earlier that you really like travelling… We wondered if that whole thing of being more of an out-going and practical person – a doer – do you think thats…

D: I think there's a strong connection there. I remember a friend of mine going to teach English in Japan, and I was saying 'Send me some paper' and he was saying 'What kind of paper?!' And actually, when you go somewhere, isn't it fascinating to get a bus-ticket or to get a bag in a shop. You know, if you buy two apples, what do they put it in? You know, how do they give it to you? How does that vary from what you're used to? Sometimes I haven't taken a sketchbook when I've gone to places, so that I can make one with what I find there. 'Cos I love the paper that's there, not the paper I brought with me… But even when I don't do that, and my wife – again, she figures in this! I should have got her to come with me! – but, she doesn't draw when we travel, but she collects material and starts making things… You know, quite rough things, but out of the materials she finds. Like, you know those books about Japanese packaging, have you seen those? I think they're called 'Six Objects' and then 'More Six Objects'. But it's like, if you buy six things – I think it's six, or four – apples or eggs, or something – in Japan they'll take string, or more like raffia, and they'll make a little carrier for it. So, what I mean is that things like that are systematised and people pick up on them, but often it's very informal… The way you choose fruit in France, or don't choose it, you ask the guy that has the fruit stand, you say: 'I want two peaches for lunch today' or we asked for cheese that was ripe for the next day in a cheese shop and the people that worked in the cheese chop just about gave me blows! You know, selecting us the perfect… They're smelling it, they're squeezing it – saying 'No no no, that's ready today'. You know, it was more like that. And I think when you travel, you're partaking a little bit in that essence of how people do things. You know, do they make up your bed in the morning? What happens…? What's the protocol? How do people do things? With food, with drink… their clothes and everything – I think it's quite wonderful. And the thing that surprised me is that I haven't really been as good a traveller as I thought I'd be, because I only understand a little bit of French and Italian. And that's really limited things for me. I mean, I've been to Berlin and I've been to Russia, but I can't really partake of the bigger conversation to find out why that thing is like that…

W: Properly understanding…

D: Yeah, and getting to know that small thing – why is that book shaped like that or why…? When I was in Russia, all of these wonderful little cartons and boxes – not one single one had any glue in it. They all fitted together in little ways that just folded and clicked into place. So you'd buy a little bar of chocolate, with a kind of little thing that slid out… But a whole design thing – I couldn't talk to anybody about it and I wanted to know 'Why are you doing things like that?'…

W: I guess maybe that's the attraction as well… That part of it, that not knowing, not understanding – maybe makes it more attractive to go places… I guess what links us is being human and being people, but then there are so many differences that it's fascinating I guess…

D: Yeah, and it undermines your usual assumptions too, about the way things need to be or have to be. So the more examples you see, I think the more open you are to finding your own way through it all. You know, you think 'Well maybe everybody in this town does things like that but I've been places in the world where things are done in a different way', and that's fine, instead of feeling… Well, I don't know what the exact example of that is, but… I think maybe it ties together old things too. Finding old things… I get more confident about how things can be rough. I mean, there's still some judgement needed about it – you know, obviously, it has to be as good as it needs to be. But that's what makes it interesting anyway – like when David Pye uses the example of a post in the ground in a field. For that to be all shiny and straight and perfectly square would be all wrong – you know, it's meant to be rough. And at the other end of the thing, it's like little 'netsuke' – those little bone things that people use for slides on Japanese clothing. 'Netsuke' is it?

L: Well, I don't know the name, but I know what you mean.

D: Little animals or fruit or vegetables. They're just tiny and they're carved out of ivory and apparently even when you touch them you discover things that you can't see… Like there's little secrets to some of them.

W: Bumps, and…

D: Yeah, that you discover when you're using it. So that's gonna be a high degree of perfection, is all I'm saying. And that's almost like another tool you could use, as a designer: to figure out how finished this thing is gonna be, as well as what colour and what size, and everything…

W: I guess, yeah, questioning whether it's relevant for it to be finished at all…

D: Yeah. I was just thinking of some sketchbooks that I saw one time at the National Portrait Gallery, that this guy used to have made for himself… There was always a lot of that around. You know, when you bought your cider in an old ceramic bottle – there was just such a wide variety of finish and things. So some people never owned anything but a cup and a spoon and a single plate, whereas other people had china and crystal and… that's really off the subject though *laughs*.

W: I think that's more or less what we want to talk about though.

L: Yeah, we would keep talking and talking about that, because it's always really nice to talk and to listen to you. Before, I was just thinking… Actually, coming back to what you said, about when you go to France or Russia and you want to find out things but actually you can't have a conversation with people… For me, it's similar – I can talk about almost anything in English but when it comes to this making thing, sometimes it's so difficult to explain that. Somehow, it becomes so personal that I don't even know if I could talk about that in my mother tongue. I haven't tried yet but…

D: Yeah, I mean – like I said I treated that too much like a research paper, reading this book and reading that book – and I mean, there's a lot around now that's just echoing the things that we're talking and thinking about. You know, Richard Sennett wrote 'The Craftsman', and there are lots of those books around. But almost every one talked about how hard it is to talk about making things, rather than the intellectual part… And I think that's why it's got such a strong hold in college. We teach the things that we can talk about, but they may not be the most interesting things. You know, 'cos we can put words to them, but there's a whole other class of things that it's hard to discuss. And those get kind of neglected, 'cos nobody has the words for them. How do you describe a lot of the things we're talking about…?

L: And also when you try to do it yourself, then you understand the person who made [it before]. Because there were a few things in the shop, like the bound books… There was Kirsty who bound books about tower blocks and I came across some people asking me what I'd done. They were like 'So there's no design? What's this? Why is that so?' It's because, just, you know… Well, I actually didn't have any questions for other people who bound books – for you (W), or Zoe. Actually, you see the object and you're enjoying it. You don't really care about the idea behind it [physically]. It was a completely different project for me.

W: And for some reason, though, it seems – I guess for you, if people say that there's no design behind it, you kind of feel as though the intellectual side [of design] is far more important than the physical object. But who says it is?

L: And everything is about experience as well, and how you experience things. Design: what is it about? Yeah, it's an endless conversation…

D: But I think, too – I don't know exactly what led to this, but I have a feeling Rathna's pretty important here… And I have a feeling that if this was two years ago, we might not be having this conversation. 'Cos I've not seen a project like the [2060] show before. I've never seen any kind of practical outcome or real thing, or making… It's always been a work-in-progress kind of show at the end of the second year, and also… I find that such a breath of fresh air, that she's here. I said to her: 'Do you have any plans this summer?'– 'Yeah, I'm gonna go to India and I'm gonna print, 'cos I need to sit down and draw and print.' I mean wow, fantastic! And I don't know that she knows more about design than any other teacher but I know it's been a really long time since there was a design teacher that made things too. So I think it's kind of ideal in that way. It's a good time to… But – I know I didn't say it very well but it's a wonderful part in Sennett's book where he was comparing how lots of people talked about doing something… And then I read out that recipe that his cook gave him, that was all about the baby and clothing the baby…

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≥≥ From Sennett's book:
"Your dead child, Prepare him for new life. Fill him with the earth. Be careful! He should not over-eat. Put on his golden coat, You bathe him. Warm him but be careful! A child dies from too much sun. Put on his jewels. This is my recipe." ≤≤
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D: You know, he was using that as an example of how difficult it is to talk about things. 'Cos obviously that left out a lot, and yet if you read Julia Child's recipe for that same chicken dish, it leaves out a lot too. And it's like that old joke, about the guy who's looking on the ground – he's lost some money and another guy goes 'you dropped it here' and he goes 'no, I dropped it over there, but the light's so much better around here that I'm looking for it here'. I think we talk about the things that we have words for quite logically – we talk about things, we teach things, and we grade on things – which I think is why the world is so academic and word-based. And even as visual artists, we're really dependant on words a lot to put over ideas, but I think we lose something…

W: Well, hopefully that concern with tactility and holding and touching things – hopefully that will come back a bit now into graphic design…

D: I think Phil and Catherine are quite keen on that aren't they…? I mean, and they're as intellectual as you'd want to be aren't they. But they have that component. Seems to me like a better balance, but yeah… I listened to a poet one time, and I said 'Who reads your poetry?', and he said 'Well I don't know, but I know that I write for somebody. I know I'm thinking of somebody and I address myself to that person, but I've never met that person.' It's useful to think of somebody, and I think a lot of us have this quality and I'm glad that people are into it, and start talking about it – it's gonna start to come to the fore. And maybe you (L) won't have to make such a case for why you made a book [that was simpler]… You know what I mean? By the time you start making them, maybe that'll be more… 'Cos I think this is relatively new – that was something else I've read. They were saying that with fine art and craft, more was written about craft – you know, right through the Arts & Crafts movement and William Morris and everything… So up until that time, there wasn't a lot of stuff about painting, 'cos painting was just… You didn't need a lot of intellectual stuff. It still was just representative painting, but for people that made things, there was more writing and more self-examination and self-reflection about that, and then – this guy, Peter Dorman – was saying that after the war, fine art really decided to differentiate itself by starting this process of critical writing and thinking, and craft will always be unable to do that on a certain level. But if you go to the V&A… Have you seen that new ceramics gallery at the V&A by any chance? It's really fantastic… It's nicely designed, but you get this feeling too of people making something out of clay for two- or three- or four-thousand years or whatever it is… It's just all there, and all these wonderful manifestations from things that your grandma might have sitting on her TV set to something really funky that some Italian designer did in the 50's… You know, there's this really nice mixture of things that people have made there. It's really impressive to me…