Ooops. I forgot to post yesterday. So right now I'm pretending that I'm posting on Wednesday instead of Thursday. Normally I feel like I'm on top of things, but I guess I get absent-minded and some things just slip through the cracks.
So I promised an explanation of my degree project. Here's the whole spiel, written out for when I had to get faculty approval last semester.
What is
the subject of my degree project?
I am exploring Mexico’s graphic design history in order to discover a
style of design different from what I have been taught and that informs my
personal identity because of my Mexican heritage.
Why am I interested in making work about
my topic?
It was not until some time in middle school, during a research
project on our ancestors, that I fully understood that I was not just white. I am
a quarter Mexican, and as such, can call myself “Latina.” Even with an
enthusiasm for the Spanish language, I didn’t feel very Mexican. The reflection
staring back at me was still a pale, blue-eyed girl with no hope of finding any
natural salsa rhythm in her dance steps. What was I? If my personal history was
rooted firmly in the United States, could I really claim to be Mexican just
because I had a blue-eyed Mexican-American grandmother? The question still nags
me, but I have been learning to identify more as a Mexican than as a resident
of the United States. I’ve always been different from people around me, had a
hard time relating, and perhaps that was because I had not found that which I am:
Mexican-American, or Chicana,
originally a word Mexicans used to refer to their descendents in the States, a
term with a generally negative connotation that the Chicanos themselves have been working to make more positive. Not
American, not Mexican, Chicana.
Cornish has helped me design like one of those “dead white guys” we
study in our design history classes. This is neither good nor bad, but it does
not leave me designing like myself, like a chicana.
Imagine my frustration to have discovered that my design history education had
totally skipped over anything not-white. Envision me, the quiet white girl,
waiting with bated breath, on the edge of her seat, when we finally reached the
lecture for designers in the 1920s, expecting to hear at least of the influence
of the political turmoil that was occurring in Mexico on American designers. Or
perhaps some mention of the surrealism that was exploding in Mexico, or those
amazing mural painters that was touched on in modern art history class. My eyes
dulled as the lecture ended with only the brief name-drop of Diego Rivera. How
can I design like a chicana if I
haven’t learned how to? How can I develop my own unique style, informed by
modern design but influenced by the designers of my Mexican past?
What’s
the task, problem or opportunity my project explores?
As part of my degree project, I want to learn about the history of
Mexican designers. I will research, study, and understand designs created by
five different Mexican designers. For each designer, I will create sketches of
work influenced by their own. With each discovery, I will be able to better
adjust my designs to be more Mexican, more me. After a semester spent in
research, discovery, and creating, I will be able to finally create some
polished designs. In a design campaign, I will inform my audience about the
history of design in Mexico, something that is rarely considered when learning
design in the United States or Europe. By comparing designs of Mexican
influence with those of Anglo-influence, I can show that the methods taught in
a United States school are not the only methods for design. By completing the
project, I will not only have learned a great deal about a topic that is not
often researched, but improve my own designs to reflect more of who I am and
what I am striving to become: a unique designer.
Who is
my project really created for, and why should they care?
My
degree project is not only for my own benefit, but also the benefit of other
designers out there looking for information on designs not created and influenced by residents of the United States or
Europe. Design happens all over the world, and my degree project will take a
look into the design created by a nearby neighbor that is influenced by us and
perhaps also influences us. By showing design work that is not “standard” per
our design education, I hope to open other designer’s minds to the possibility
of design solutions influenced by a country different from the United States or
the European union. By focusing on Mexico, I can spotlight a country that is
important not only to me, but a great number of Mexican immigrants, chicanos, and United States citizens of
Mexican descent.
Who
will engage with it directly and indirectly?
While
my research into Mexican graphic design aesthetic is mainly going to be
communicated to other designers, since it will be the designers themselves that
will notice the differences from “normal” or standard design practices, I would
hope that the general public would recognize that an egocentric all-American
view is not necessarily the best approach in all things. Indirectly, my sources
from which I gather information will engage with my project as well as inform
it.
How
will it be remembered and retold?
It is my wish that my project is remembered as something unique because
it investigated a design aesthetic not taught at Cornish. By staying true to my
roots, I will have not only learned something new about design, but also about
myself and my past. I hope that I can show designers that their own pasts and
cultural experiences can inform and improve their work, and thus have my
project retold or reinvented by influencing other designers to delve into their
own ancestry and personal cultural identity and express their discoveries in
their design work.
