This is self indulgent but I feel it is justified since it’s a follow-up to a topic I wrote about nearly a year ago. Tonight Stefan Sagmeister the graphic designer came to KC for a lecture event on his book tour. A and I went because I’m a big fan. Afterward he signed my book and this happened.

To explain why this happened I need to say that a few friends/co-workers have mentioned in the past that I bare a resemblance to Sagmeister. Two of those people happened to be standing near by. If anything, I think he bares a resemblance to me.

http://gizmodo.com/349509/lego-brick-timeline-50-years-of-building-frenzy-and-curiosities
http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1707379,00.html

Playing with Legos as a kid taught me how to be creative. Without knowing it at the time, I was learning to be resourceful (I never had all the pieces I wanted so I made work-arounds to get what I wanted.) And I learned how to be in “the zone” of creativity and build for hours by myself. (Years later as a graphic designer I discovered I was doing essentially the same thing only with different tools.) It was always the process of building and not so much the acting out of scenarios that I liked – which is still true today for what I do as a graphic designer and musician.

Studio 360 may be one of the best weekly NPR shows for anyone interested in the creative process. Below is a link to one of my favorite segments and its description from its website.

http://www.studio360.org/episodes/2006/12/22

Studio 360 commissioned Pentagram, one of the country’s leading design firms, to give Christmas a makeover. They came up with a new typeface, color scheme, fir tree surrogate, and a radical proposal to channel the rampant commercialism to good ends. Pentagram partner Michael Bierut presents the plan to Kurt Andersen.

Be sure to check out their visual presentation kit as well!

Side note: I met Michael Bierut (and Kurt Andersen) briefly this last year at an AIGA conference. He is sort of a Wynton Marsalis for the graphic design profession in terms of respect, work, and being an industry spokesman. He’s the media’s goto source for smart commentary for graphic design developments and contributes to magazines like Print and his own shared blog Design Observer.

Early 1950s Eames DAX chairs of Zenaloy (D = dining height, A = armshell, X = four point rod leg base)

These came from a Catholic elementary school here in town. I made an offer initially thinking that they were replicas or knockoffs of Herman Miller Eames chairs since I couldn’t find the HM logo molded on the bottom. After the buy and doing more research specifically about these chairs I now think it’s very likely that these predate the HM logo* and are real Eames chairs.

I had two nearly simultaneous “Oh, shit” moments. The first was in realizing that these were probably real Eames chairs and that I got them for a great price. The second was in that I may have dissuaded the elementary school teacher from her first thought that they were real Eames chairs. I told her that I wasn’t for sure if they were real but in my experience the real items had Herman Miller branding. We both looked and she took my first offer based on that assessment. And even though I was operating under the best information I had at the time (which wasn’t much), I now wonder if I need to let her know that I bought six chairs from her for less than the price one chair would fetch on ebay. (Please know that I’m not bragging here.) In that case, I’d probably end up with one chair.

Is it narcissistic to feel this kind of guilt? Or is that question a way to justify my feeling better about this all? It seems we both brought to the purchase the knowledge we had at the moment and used it honestly.

I’m told that I “just stumbled on (my) first mid-century modern find. That kind of thing does happen.” Clueless, dumb luck might be more like it.

* I don’t know when the HM logo did or didn’t go on similar chairs but eamesoffice.com and ebay both show models with and without the logos

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Guilt aside, now I see why these chairs have endured. Not only are they sturdy and weighty but they also seem to defy gravity! The skinny legs are surprisingly solid and the fiberglass seat seems to floats above them. After more than 50 years these chairs live both in the 1950s and today effortlessly. Though, for some reason, when I became more aquatinted with these I could only think: laundromat.

Does this chair seem dated to you?

Another designer at work forwarded this around the office this week. Stefan Sagmeister is very well known as a graphic designer and I am not. So this will be the only comparison between us. But why is he such a copy cat? Thank you Stephanie.

I want to steal the blue Eames Aluminum Group chairs that have been sitting carelessly near the cooker in front of the firehouse that is down the street. They are too expensive for my budget. But I’m not going to steal them. That’s wrong. So if they go missing don’t ask me about where they are because I won’t have them.