Value Sans / colophon

Value? Worth? Both? Neither?

How much?


When thinking about what to write about, my thought process was bombarded with cool things to write about. ‘Interesting things’, that fit into realms of interestingness? I wondered where the value lay? Who is determining my value — Me? You? Everyone else? Is reading this worth your time? I certainly hope so. Although, that’s not up to me.


I was a student not so long ago, studying to become one of those ‘Graphic Designers’. Who was going to, by default — solve problems, fight crime, hate comic sans and judge every dinner menu I came across; a path I wanted to pursue, I felt this inner need to surround myself with design books, posters, typefaces and documentary films. My student loans and feeble freelance income took a beating. I could have spent the money on less menial things, but the draw to these design icons was too strong


I question if it was all worth it. Do I value all of these ‘design possessions’, now that I’m a fully pledged member of this design community? Whenever Unit Editions, the design-focused publishers, announces a new publication, without a blink of an eye, I’d find it in my pre-order basket and await eagerly for it to arrive. When it finally does arrive, I have a brief look through it before it finds a place on my bookshelf. A year later, still untouched since the day it arrived. The value of these books look superficial, as if I bought them thinking “because I bought from Unit Editions, I can feel closer to design community”. Was it worth it? £50 for something I looked at once, that’s £50 per viewing, hardly screaming out value for money.


However, I feel there is a value in the collection. This may not obvious right now. The same can be said for those who buy art, why are they really buying it? I believe we are paying for the experience opposed to the material value. Albeit, it’s the solid material that “holds” the monetary value, the experience you get from the art is entirely personal. The physicality of the object is what’s being paid for, but is it not the experience and cathecting of the object that holds it’s real value?


The experience of a book, poster, or painting goes beyond something tangible. SeditionArt, is an online platform where artists distribute their work in solely a digital format with the grandeur slogan: “Experience Art Like Never Before”. you can purchase artworks from £5 to £1500, from renowned contemporary artist like Damien Hirst; Shepard Fairey, Bill Viola and Matt Pyke. If the value of art resides in the buyer’s personal experience of it, how is it then quantified and priced accordingly, especially on an online marketplace? Surely it’s all about the personal experience gained from owning new artwork. Finally you can tell the world you owe a Hirst/Fairey/Voila/Pyke piece. The artwork’s format becomes superfluous. I do wonder how sustainable it really is even if it’s in a digital format.


Purchasing design ephemera should not be about parading what you own. The things we have, design ephemera or otherwise, earn their status when we begin to sustain gratification from merely owning them. On a few occasions I have purchased typefaces from independent type foundries, not necessarily for a job, but purely because I wanted to have a play with it and experience the typeface for myself. I felt a lot more value in that then seeing it on the type foundry website.


Perhaps one day I’ll take inspiration from one my collections. Whether it’s from the design, content, publishing process, colours, paper, form. When that day comes,will it then be worth the price? .


The value of any of my books, posters, and films, will always be far greater than the material cost.

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