Design is a verb and a noun: a process and an outcome. The two are inextricably linked but are seldom presented together for your consideration. Sketchbooks and other outlets for ideas add a different dimension to the study of design by exposing the thought process behind polished pieces of work that appear as entirely natural and effortless solutions to briefs they answer. Paul Rand, to some extent, managed his own reputation as a brilliant designer through the careful presentation of his thought process in the boardroom. The design of a logo such as for NeXT Software, which may have taken months of careful work and consideration, is presented by Rand in a condensed and carefully designed presentation booklet. Each design problem is articulately written, and the next page reveals another defined step in the logo’s evolution. This format was appropriate for the purpose of his presentation to client Steve Jobs, but his sketchbooks would probably be more interesting to the designer wanting to learn more about Rand’s mindset. In seeing discarded ideas and the organic flow of critical thought, the ability of the sketchbook to penetrate the mindset of a revered designer such as Rand, or indeed an accomplished painter such as Turner (whose sketchbooks are easily accessible online), can sometimes make the sketchbook more interesting than the outcomes to which they lead.
In the particular case of ‘Harry’ Beck and his design work for the iconic London Underground map, the drawings catalogued in Mr Beck’s Underground Map tell an interesting story. Beck proposed an abstract but functionally brilliant redesign to the map that resolved the problem of being able to clearly show the central, denser part of the network – its lines and stations – in relation to the sprawling outer regions. In return for giving copyright to London Transport, Beck was assured that he would be called upon to oversee future redesigns. The book documents with Beck’s sketches, drawings and letters of correspondence, his slavish devotion to refining the map and responding to changes to the network. It is also a story of his attempts to regain control when others were commissioned in his place to mess-up his map. Though Beck found himself in the wilderness after 1959 when he was excluded from further redesigns, he still continued his own work as a form of therapy with “piles of sketches on the bedside table, even under the bed”. That he regarded it as a labour of love even though his maps fell on blind eyes is slightly poignant, but makes this unmistakable piece of design even more interesting.
Harry Beck's first sketch for the London Underground map, 1931
