Field note / graphic design / typography / design process
Graphic Design History That Every Working Designer Should Know
A working knowledge of design history isn't academic. It's a reference library for understanding why things work and where visual languages come from.
- Published
- Jan 30, 2023
- Length
- 3 min read / 639 words
- Topics
- graphic design, typography, design process
I didn't take design history seriously early in my career. It felt like context without application. I was wrong. Design history is a reference library. When you encounter a visual problem, knowing what designers before you did with similar problems gives you a vocabulary of tested solutions and a set of principles validated by decades of use.
Here are the movements and designers I return to most often.
The Bauhaus (1919-1933)
The Bauhaus is where modern design education was invented. The idea that fine art and applied design should be taught together, that form should follow function, that craft and industry should be united. The visual output was abstract, geometric, and rigorous.
What I take from it: the systematic integration of visual elements. Bauhaus graphic design (Herbert Bayer, Moholy-Nagy) treats typography and image as elements in a visual system rather than as decoration applied to a surface. Every element has a structural function.
Swiss International Style (1950s-1970s)
The International Typographic Style, developed primarily in Switzerland and Germany, established the grid-based, sans-serif, objective visual language that defined corporate and institutional design for decades. Josef Muller-Brockmann's concert posters are the canonical examples.
What I take from it: the grid as a design tool, not a constraint. Typographic hierarchy as the primary compositional system. The idea that design can be objective and systematic rather than expressive and personal.
New Wave Typography (1970s-1980s)
The reaction against Swiss rationalism, led by Wolfgang Weingart and his students (April Greiman, Dan Friedman). Type placed on angles, layered transparencies, deliberate violation of grid rules. Subjectivity and expression brought back into graphic design.
What I take from it: rules are most productively broken when you understand them completely. The New Wave designers knew the International Style inside out before departing from it. Their violations were informed violations.
Emigre Magazine and Digital Typography (1980s-1990s)
Zuzana Licko and Rudy VanderLans at Emigre pushed the limits of early desktop publishing, creating typefaces and layouts that embraced digital aesthetics rather than trying to imitate pre-digital work. The Lo-Res bitmap fonts, the deliberately anti-hierarchical layouts.
What I take from it: work with the technology you have rather than imitating the aesthetics of previous technology. The early digital designers who tried to make the Mac look like offset lithography made less interesting work than those who let the medium be itself.
Saul Bass and Post-War American Graphic Design
Bass's film title sequences and corporate identities (AT&T, United Airlines, Warner Communications) defined midcentury American graphic design. Memorable symbols, confident reduction, total formal control.
What I take from it: the idea that a logo can be a meaningful visual object, not just a name written in a font. Bass's marks have survived decades because they were designed as symbols, not as typeset text.
Paula Scher and Contemporary American Design
Scher's work at Pentagram over the past three decades is a master class in typographic wit and historical awareness. Her Public Theater posters, her Citibank identity, her New York City transit work. Work that deploys visual history with intelligence and confidence.
What I take from it: historical reference used with intention produces work that's richer than either historical pastiche or historical ignorance. Know where you're borrowing from. Borrow with purpose.
Why This Matters for Practice
Every design I produce exists in a visual tradition whether I acknowledge it or not. When I choose a Swiss grid, I'm working in a tradition. When I use a display gothic face, I'm referencing a history. When I simplify a mark to its geometric essence, I'm working in a lineage from Bass through the Bauhaus.
Knowing the tradition means I'm making conscious choices rather than unconscious ones. That's the difference between being a practitioner and being a technician.