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1986 AIGA MEDAL
The year before
Nazi Germany was defeated was 1944, and despite Allied army advance,
Switzerland, neutral but not out of danger, continued to keep its
frontiers closed fearing invasion from a desperate Reich. Despite
many privations, the Swiss nervously attended to business as usual,
hoping for peace. It was also the year that Walter Herdeg, a
thirty-four-year-old Zürich-born advertising designer, decided to
launch an international design magazine which he called
Graphis, the Greek word for a writing instrument.
Believing that normalcy would inevitably come, he wanted this
publication to contribute to the applied arts, but moreover he
wanted to help develop a new field of graphic design. Upon its
publication, Herdeg stuffed a dozen copies of the first issue into
each diplomatic pouch that left his landlocked country for Swiss
embassies abroad, hoping that, like the proverbial note in a
bottle, they would reach friendly and responsive hands.
After Germany's capitulation and the opening of Switzerland's
borders a year later, Graphis was warmly greeted by its
new-found constituents and soon became the proponent of an
international cross-pollination of design philosophies and
practices. Forty-two years and 246 issues later, Walter Herdeg has
become, in the words of art historian Manuel Gasser, “a kind of
graphic conscience of our age.” And now in his first year of
self-imposed retirement, it is appropriate that the American
Institute of Graphic Arts bestow its medal upon him, acknowledging
his contributions to exemplary graphic design and illustration.
Graphis has been the clarion of a wide range of design
approaches and the showcase for over four generations of fine
talent. Herdeg purposefully introduced Americans to Western
Europeans in order that each might learn and share their visual
ideas. To Eastern Europeans, Graphis was perhaps even more
invaluable. Herdeg not only opened a window to the practice of the
West but also made the world aware of the otherwise unknown graphic
innovations taking place within the Soviet bloc. Herdeg devoted
special issues to isolated design communities such as those in
Japan and Finland. And he focused on a variety of applied arts
genres, including comics, medical illustration and children's
books, in an effort to create equality and respect for the various
forms. Herdeg was helped in this only to the extent that he
developed a network of trusted international correspondents and a
Zürich-based support staff, but the ultimate decision-making was
his alone. In fact, Graphis was never simply the sum of
its parts; it was always Walter Herdeg's statement.
He was its publisher, editor, designer and arbiter of taste. He
analyzed, criticized and lovingly administered to every last
detail. Hence, a feature story in Graphis was not merely a
showcase for a designer, it was a verification that his or her work
was admired by one of the most critical men in the field. Though
certainly self-styled, the responsibility he gave himself was not
misplaced. While those who were never paid notice in
Graphis or in the Graphis Annuals might have been
disappointed by his authoritarian rule, no one could fault his
integrity or his standards in matters of design and illustration.
He never succumbed to caprice, style or fashion, once stating that
his rationale for whatever appeared in Graphis meant that
a work “had to be fashionable for 50 or 100 years.”
Walter Herdeg was born in Zürich on January 3, 1908. As a youth,
he loved drawing and hoped that it would be possible to get an
artistic, meaningful job. However, he recalls, “There wasn't such a
profession yet that I was aware of, so for me there was only the
possibility of learning to become a lithographic draftsman in a
printer's, which would not have satisfied me.” By chance Herdeg
then heard at this time of the existence of a graphics class that
had been established shortly before at the Kunstgewerbeschule,
Zürich, and whose first teacher was Ernst Keller. That was his aim.
But since his parents were too poor to afford tuition to art
school, there were more pressing concerns. But as luck would have
it, he met Ernst Keller, the sympathetic teacher and pioneer of
Swiss poster art in the Twenties, who offered this apparently
talented boy a full scholarship.
Upon graduation in 1928, Herdeg left for Berlin to study with
Professor O.H.W. Hadank, one of the masters of German package and
trademark design, at the Hochschule für bildende Kunst. He had
saved only enough money to study for one semester, but when he
announced that he was forced to return to Zürich, Hadank offered
Herdeg a job in his studio working on cigarette packages, logos and
doing calligraphy. In 1930 he returned to Zürich and established a
little studio where he specialized in trademarks and lettering. His
clients included Schwind Radio, Moinat, the furniture manufacturer,
and others. More important, though, it was during this time that
Herdeg met Dr. Walter Amstutz, the man responsible for publicizing
the famed mountain resort, St. Moritz.
The relationship was a designer's dream, for Amstutz understood
the need for good and effective publicity and trusted Herdeg's
tastes implicitly, allowing him to create a unique, if not
revolutionary, identity campaign. As Herdeg notes, “I was heading
up a corporate design program without knowing that such a thing
existed.” Although Peter Behrens had designed a corporate identity
for AEG, a German electrical company, two decades before, this was
certainly the first time a health resort ever tried to do
“corporate design.” Herdeg created a memorable campaign based on a
delightful trademark of a brightly shining sun which, to his
credit, is till used today. And which he proudly had carved onto a
ring that he always wears.
Herdeg was influenced by Claude Hopkins, the American publicity
genius whose advertising philosophies emphasized the clear
articulation of imagery and thus changed the visual tenor of the
field. Although Bauhaus had exerted a great influence on
contemporary practice, Herdeg eschewed what he believed was the
cold rationality of the Bauhaus for a more eclectic approach. “My
job,” he states, “was to bring people to St. Moritz. I knew that if
I did abstract designs most people would not understand and so
would not be motivated. I had to create an atmosphere that gives
one the desire to breathe fresh air, soak up warm sun and ski. So I
knew I must have color. Today I would use color photography, but in
those days it did not exist.” His decision to apply bright colors
with an airbrush to his inventive photomontages was concurrent with
Herbert Matter's now iconographic Swiss tourism posters.
The six years that Herdeg worked more or less full-time for St.
Moritz offered more than just a collection of fine portfolio
samples. “The condition of employment,” he recalls happily, “was
that I could travel to London, Paris and New York between seasons
to work on my own besides making sketches for the various future
campaigns.” These lengthy sojourns abroad increased his awareness
of international design and thus strengthened his own vision as
well. However, by 1938 with the specter of world war rearing again
for the second time in 20 years, St. Moritz decided to terminate
its long-range, foreign publicity plans, thus ending one career
chapter and beginning another for Herdeg.
The two Walters—Amstutz and Herdeg—decided to continue as
partners forming Amstutz & Herdeg Advertising Editions. Amstutz
found the clients; Herdeg designed their trademarks, labels and
brochures. Herdeg was particularly enamored of book design and
pursued it as much as time and clients would permit. He was even
more captivated by the idea of producing a design magazine from
scratch.
During his time in Berlin, Herdeg was an avid reader of
Professor Walter Frenzel's Gebrauchsgraphik, the
Berlin-based magazine of international advertising art. He was
proud the Gebrauchsgraphik featured his work for St.
Moritz in a 1938 issue. But Herdeg felt that he could do such a
magazine better. “Frenzel restricted himself entirely to
advertising, and I wanted to do a magazine that showed other
expressions of art, like the French journals Cahiers d'Art
and Arts et Métiers Graphiques.” Frenzel died in an auto
accident in 1939, and the publication of Gebrauchsgraphik
ceased. As a consequence of war, any kind of artistic study—applied
or otherwise—was also on hold. But Herdeg was still intent on
starting a magazine. “I couldn't wait until the Nazis lost the
war,” he remembers. “When Stalingrad fell, I came out with the
dummy of my project, and in September 1944, I was ready to send the
magazine out. We began with a meager 1,000 subscribers in
Switzerland, and immediately after the war, we did a subscription
campaign in America which brought in 1,500 more.”
Herdeg convinced the newly-founded Swiss Union of Advertising
Designers to make Graphis its official voice, which would
be governed by a board of advisors. But after the first issue, they
realized the full extent of Herdeg's abilities and dissolved the
board, giving him full support. It was clear from the outset that
Graphis' high standards were to be maintained. Herdeg even
deigned the few advertisements he had gotten from suppliers. The
design of the entire magazine was as important to Herdeg as was the
editorial content. Though some have criticized Graphis'
design for being too stolid, its functional conservatism is its
reason for success. “The layouts in Graphis, or magazines
like it, must never be spectacular,” says Herdeg emphatically.
“They must only serve the purpose, which is to show the work of an
artist in the best possible way and to make it appear even better
than it is. I call this a 'service layout.'”
Herdeg codified many rules, especially with typography, that
underscored Graphis' distinct personality. There are
critics who complained that his grid was too sanitized, too Swiss,
too dogmatic, but Herdeg's organizing principle was not wed to any
ism, but was based according to need. “My layout is not a
Bauhaus layout. Nor was I ever in favor of the so-called 'Swiss
typography,' which at the time practically only used 8 pt. sans
serif type for everything. That was wrong. Typography has to serve
a specific purpose; it has to be legible. Therefore my layout
obeyed specific necessities: to show the work as much and as
elegantly as possible.” Although the format changed in minor ways a
few times over the 42 years, he never deviated from his love of
Garamond as a text type. “When I began Graphis, I decided
Garamond was a face that would be up-to-date for the next 50 or 100
years. It's not only beautifully designed, but it gives a great
surface, allowing the pictures to sit unencumbered.”
Herdeg's tastes continued to be eclectic. He refused to
subscribe to doctrine, and often during the early Fifties his
preferences flew in the face of the prevailing Swiss International
Style. Of the early period he recalls, “I appreciated Richard Lohse
and Max Bill. They both did some exemplary work in typography, but
I was more impressed by Jan Tschichold, the real typographic genius
in Switzerland.”
Originality and talent were the standards by which Herdeg made
selections for Graphis. “I was always under the impression
that I had a special gift for identifying talent. If I showed
something or someone that hadn't been shown anywhere before, I did
so because the work was not just clever but inspired.” The Alsatian
cartoonist, Tomi Ungerer, is one such artist that Herdeg
discovered. But he had more established favorites, too. Ben Shahn,
Saul Steinberg, Andre François, Ronald Searle, Heinz Edelmann,
Seymour Chwast and Milton Glaser, among other superb illustrators,
were regularly recognized for their artistry. In fact, since
Graphis tried to maintain a reasonable balance between
graphic design, illustration and what one might call the finer
arts, Herdeg's other criterion for selection was artistic merit. He
chose, for example, to show an obscure Finnish tapestry and fabric
designer over something like Steuben glass works because the latter
“was too commercial and slick.” By featuring the lesser knowns in
various applied arts (not just print) he hoped to encourage artists
to express themselves in different media.
Herdeg was a conductor in the classic sense. He orchestrated the
works appearing in his magazine with verve. The most important
piece was the Graphis cover. For most artists, to be asked
to do a cover was an honor, but then to have it accepted was a peak
of professional recognition. Out of 246 (a few of which were done
by Herdeg himself), there are some that have not aged well, but on
balance the successes prevail. Herdeg had very definite ideas about
what a cover should be, defining it this way: “In an ideal case, a
cover should have meaning to everything that's inside. Therefore I
couldn't use a Mondrian that has nothing to do with an issue. If it
was something by an artist inside, that was a plus, but a cover
should have a general appeal to the design world. However, that
does not mean it should be a bottle of ink and a brush. In fact,
there were often misunderstandings because that image is the first
that comes to mind when an artist thinks about the arts.” Although
a number of covers have unique “design” themes, many more are
independent, powerfully expressive, or abstract images. For the
loyal Graphis reader, the anticipation of what Herdeg had
chosen for his cover and what variation on the logotype he designed
was a significant part of the magazine experience.
Herdeg's process of scrutinizing and compiling work involved the
exercise of looking at exhibitions, meeting a large number of
practitioners, and being a member of Alliance Graphique
Internationale. His job was made both easier and harder when he was
convinced by his London correspondent, Charles Rosner, to begin
publishing the Graphis Annual in 1952. Because there was
never an entry or hanging fee, tens of thousands of pieces flooded
his Zürich office each year. And Herdeg alone would wade through
the material. “No one else had any influence in the choice. I did
the selection and, for the first five years, the layout. Then I
started to organize the layout in such a way that a gifted designer
on my staff, who had the same ideas of structuring a page, could do
it under my supervision.” The success of the Graphis
Annual led the way for Photographis in 1966 and
Graphis Posters in 1973, as well as a series of one-shot
Graphis books including those on television graphics,
comics, charts and diagrams, and ephemera.
Graphis had no political agenda although by the
frequent showing of peace and other protest posters from around the
world, Herdeg was making political statements. And by exposing
Westerners to Eastern bloc artists and vise versa, cultural détente
was created. Criticism was never overtly expressed because as
Herdeg admits, “I am not a man of words. It would take me a lot of
time to write a critique of something. I would rather ignore it.
Therefore, it doesn't exist for me.” But the charge that
Graphis took no critical stand is not entirely accurate.
To the extent that Herdeg fostered a need to educate people to the
beauty of the visual environment, a profound “critical” statement
was being made. “My desire was to define what is beautiful in the
world and who makes it beautiful. If I did an issue on pictograms,
I wanted to show how much pictograms could help communicate without
language, and that those pictograms could be done beautifully. To
take another example, I think if a country has well-designed
newspapers with decent typography, photography and illustration to
support a good presentation of the news, that will educate people.
I thought, even if it takes 400 years, in time, you can educate the
people to a certain extent and teach them to see with different
eyes. Maybe it is a silly philosophy, but without it, why do all
this work? I wanted to penetrate the daily life with beauty.
In 1962, Graphis celebrated its 100th number with an
entire issue devoted to the sun. Since Herdeg's career as an
advertising designer began with his solar tribute to St. Moritz, it
was fitting. Shortly after in 1963, his long-time and ultimately
turbulent partnership with Walter Amstutz ended, with Herdeg
retaining full control of the Graphis publishing company.
In the years that followed, circulation was increased to
approximately 21,000 copies in over 50 nations.
Despite changes in design styles and fashions, Herdeg kept
Graphis on a steady course. His vision was inspired by the
teachings of his eminent professors, Keller and Hadank, and
influenced by the many talented and trusted friends and advisors
around the world. But an acute understanding of art and design,
influenced by technology and shifts in commerce, culture and
politics, governed his decisions. During 42 years, Herdeg has
witnessed and perhaps caused many changes in the design profession.
”Years ago a designer could just do an illustration or an
occasional poser or typographically design for a booklet. But today
they are influential in product design and have developed a whole
new language in diagram design. This was impossible to think of 42
years ago.“ For the historian, Herdeg's 246 issues are fascinating
timelines. While they ignore the timely and superficial trends,
they focus on the significant talents. What Herdeg says about the
last few years applies to his entire output. ”I think in recent
issues there might even be some examples of Post-modernism in which
I feel there was talent. But then I show them not even realizing
that they are Post-modern. I leave that to others who are much more
articulate than I. I am so much an 'eye' man. For me, it's all
visual.“
Copyright 1987 by The American Institute of Graphic
Arts.
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