JKR

Fabien Baron has been inducted into the Art Directors Hall of Fame. A great art director, he has produced famous work for Italian Vogue, Interview and Bazaar magazines. Since gaining star status he has also designed perfume packaging, furniture, his own line of eye wear (of course) and is now editing Interview. It’s notable that his own star status comes largely from designing the ultimate celebrity document of the 90s: Madonna’s Sex book.

There is no doubting his talent, but it runs counter to one view of what makes a great designer; that designers should be chameleons, able to conjure up whatever style the job demands, and focussed on making the work famous, not the creator. Indeed Barron was removed from one high profile job because it was felt he was just doing his thing rather than the right thing:

“With Fabien’s design there was an overall sense of sameness, from article to article, and issue to issue, which is his strength, even his gift, but just not my preference,” Luca Stoppini told the New York Times when explaining why she dismissed him from Italian Vogue.

But I think we need a few more Fabien Barons. Our industry is becoming increasingly populated with clients who see design as a function, something they are well qualified to meddle with at a pedantic level (“take that key-line a fraction higher, and make the red blue, I think blue is better”).

We designers need to be open minded that the client might be right, but even if they’re wrong it’s going to be hard to resist the changes. The risk for clients is that a misplaced confidence in their own abilities as designers, and a lack of respect for the skill of the designer they have employed can lead to the solution being ok but not great. Ironically, this behaviour is becoming more prevalent as designs role is taken increasingly seriously within marketing departments. Against this trend the Barons of our world offer a reminder that sometimes you buy the vision and the talent and should cherish it. Guys like him help save the rest of us from being perceived as jobbing plumbers.

Of course over-bearing advice is nothing new. There is a story that when Michelangelo presented his sculpture of David to Florence a dignitary suggested the nose was a tad large. Michelangelo duly climbed his ladder and pretended to make corrections. Tapping with hammer and chisel, he sprinkled some dust from his pocket onto the crowd below. On his descent the dignitary proclaimed himself pleased with the results. Perhaps there’s a lesson there for designers and patrons?