Studio Names
Old school names are not always as effective as hip names. With the current rage in digital business names like Google, Twitter, Pintrest, Spotify, and the like, design firms are taking on names that sound like music groups. Among the quirkiest are Psy Op, Heads of State, Change Is Good, Razorfish, Original Champions of Design (see page 58), Lust (see page 234), and Simple Is Beautiful (see page 260). If you are appealing to a youth cultural or artistic clientele, a name like my favorite, World Domination Studio, may work. However, think carefully about how far out on a limb you want to go. But speaking of music groups, try to avoid The Beatles, as we believe it is a registered trademark.
Increasingly, the trend is for young designers to acquire a minimum of two to four years of experience working in an established studio or firm to learn the ropes and the nuances of running a studio. Depending on the quality of the job, that should be enough time to then branch out into a studio or partnership. Yet there are dozens of business scenarios (some of which are outlined in the interviews).
Starting as a freelancer, which does not involve hiring staff or maintaining office overhead, is probably the safest option. It allows you to determine whether or not a business is what you want to do early in your career. Often freelancing feeds other ambitions, as it provides the confidence necessary for engaging in a full-fledged operation.
Some designers cannot, however, wait for what was once called an “apprenticeship” to end before jumping headlong into building a design business. Beware! But nonetheless, don't be timid. You are only foolhardy if you are ignorant of the responsibilities you'll have to assume. But if you are aware of how a business operates, then you will doubtless find a partner or associate who can help on many levels: finances, selling, promoting, and so on. A good advisor will guide you through and help you neutralize what might otherwise be a mine field.
The goal of a design business is to make great design while earning a respectable living. Designers do not become proprietors or partners because it is expected. So whether you work for yourself or work for others, the best advice is to do what will best advance the quality of your work and maximize the longevity of your career.
Lynda Decker
Mapping Out the Future
Lynda Decker is a New York City–based graphic designer who began her career at Lubalin Peckolick Associates, working at the foot of the great typographer Herb Lubalin. At the studio, she learned skills (never to be used again) such as setting type on a Photo-Typositor and drawing perfect hairline rules. She spent several years in the advertising industry at McCaffrey & McCall, Backer Spielvogel Bates, and Wells Rich Green, working with clients such as Mercedes-Benz, Falcon Jet, CBS, and IBM. Decker Design began in 1996 to combine the energy of the team-driven approach of an advertising agency with the craft-based environment of a small design firm. Decker Design currently creates branding and interactive and print solutions for a diverse client base that includes everything from academic institutions to the world's largest financial firms.
Centerline Capital Website
Creative Director: Lynda Decker
Design: Michael Aron, Susanne Adrian, Bradley Cushing
Programming: Michael Aron and Bradley Cushing
Why did you start your own design firm?
A friend said, “Lynda, stop complaining about your job. I'm tired of hearing this. Start you own business. I did it, you can do it; I will help you.” And so, for the next few hours, we kept the restaurant open and mapped out what I would do, what type of clients I should go after, how much money I needed to get started, and then he made me pick a date to quit my job. We worked out detail after detail. I was terrified but exhilarated.
Was there a focus that you had in mind, or was it general at the outset?
I had worked in both advertising and graphic design before starting my firm. My clients were large corporations such as Chase Manhattan, IBM, and CBS. My friends encouraged me to start building clients based on the work I had done and also to speak with anyone I had worked with in the past. So I spoke to financial companies – they were assigning tons of work to designers in the late 1990s, and some of those assignments were really fun – there were magazines, lavish brochures, and insanely elaborate party invitations – this was the era of fancy paper, twigs used for binding, and lots of die cutting.
How would you describe the style or form your work takes?
My work has evolved over the years, and I've noticed that as I matured, it has become more simplified, especially in relation to typography. I'm sure it is a reaction to the complexity of life in the twenty-first century – I have a desire to strip away anything that is nonessential. I also have a strong interest in photography, which has an ability to bring humanity to subjects and reach people on an emotional level. Recently, I decided to return to graduate school to improve my writing and research skills. This, of course, is providing another level of influence on my work – I'm affecting content more. If I had to sum it up, my work has clarity; it is clean, simple, and uses a great deal of photography.
Urban Archaeology Ad Campaign
Creative Director: Lynda Decker
Design: Lynda Decker, Kevin Lamb, Natalie Marshall
Photos: Ken Skalski
Do you inject personality into the design, or is it devoid of it?
I think everyone injects personality into his or her design work; as an interpretative form of expression, it is unavoidable. I would say my work reflects my clients' personalities, but in truth, the work is a result of a blend of my personality and theirs.
How much has the digital world entered what began as a print design business?
The digital world has completely changed my business as well as the design industry. Some of these changes are great, and others are painful. I began my career in an era of glue and razors, and I couldn't be happier to escape the drudgery of a pasteup. Thank God the days of having to change the leading of a book with a ruler and razor are over!
Technology has made so many forms of expression accessible – it's easy to experiment with photography – there's no cost of film and processing to hold you back. Video equipment and editing software are relatively affordable – you are only limited by your imagination. You can revise a website easily, publish a book using Lulu or some other service – digitally print a new card overnight. I can tweet a writer and tell him I thought he wrote a great article, and he can tweet a note of thanks back in minutes. We can do so much now that was never possible before.
What about the economics of a design business?
Fees are now much lower, and there is a greater level of competition for the available work – it's harder to sustain a business. This has created an environment where designers often do not like to say the word design in the context of their work. “Graphic designer” has morphed into “brand strategist” or some other title that implies more importance. Few designers would now refer to their businesses as a “studio,” which was a popular term 20 or 30 or 40 years ago. One will see the terms design firm, agency, office, or design practice more often now. Design industry business consultants advise their clients to specialize in a market segment to differentiate themselves.
Do clients want more? Are their expectations reasonable?
There is an expectation from many clients that technology should make everything very inexpensive. Writers are now asked to contribute to blogs for free, stock photography can be almost free on certain websites, and I think you can buy a logo for $5.00 or less online. I have concerns that all of us who are in the creative class are being seriously devalued.
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