On the Visual Identity for Reconstructing Practice
Building Worlds & Constructing Languages
This post is part of a series of reflections on Reconstructing Practice, a convening held on July 13–14 in Pasadena, CA at Art Center College of Design. This and other reflections have been published in Reflecting on Reconstructing Practice: Toward an Anti-Racist Art & Design Field, available here. The following narrative is based on a conversation with Nidhi Singh Rathore, the lead Graphic Designer for Reconstructing Practice. Unless otherwise noted, all quotes in this section are hers.
The visual identity extended the influence of Reconstructing Practice beyond its brief lifetime as a physical installation in the Wind Tunnel, across time and mediums.
The event’s visual identity initially emerged from the title and was shaped over time by its themes. As Nidhi Singh Rathore, our graphic designer, described:
“…the invitation to come and gather was about ‘taking up space,’ so the identity was about creating a space within [the event] itself. I was trying to illustrate the idea of reconstructing and recreating to use layering to talk about different perspectives coming together.”
The visual identity is anchored by a typeface that reconstructs basic shapes into letter forms. The basic shapes represent archaic, traditional perspectives — about power, privilege, and race — that are imposed upon us. The deconstruction, rearrangement, and juxtaposition of those shapes depict the ways we aimed to dissect and reclaim power throughout the course of the event.
The composition and layering across mediums channel Gestalt principles like proximity, enclosure, continuity, and connection. For instance, we used principles of continuity and connection to occupy a larger canvas when deconstructing and rearranging shapes to create movement on a poster or masking singular images across multiple shapes.
One rule guiding the Reconstructing Practice typeface and accompanying shapes was that each element must be aligned based on a grid system. That said, content layered on top of that grid was intentionally arranged to challenge the grid visually.
A central element of the identity is its dynamism: It depicts a constant state of change. In each graphic, the basic shapes multiply and change in different ways. Even though they are arranged on a grid, each asset features a different collection and placement of dissected shapes. In retrospect, this design feature aligns deeply with our programmatic goals around encouraging a dialectical exchange: inviting dialogue that generates new ideas and advances change.
This element of change was also partially influenced by the evolution of the identity throughout the planning process:
…“[T]he identity kept growing over time. It was such a fast process when we announced the convening, that it took its time to mature, over time. I only gained confidence in the visual identity a week or two before the conference.”
The consistency of the variation across mediums — digital assets on social media platforms, print materials handed out at the event, hand painted swag bags, signage throughout the space — reinforced the ubiquity of change: “Change was pretty consistent in all the things we were making,” and this variation is part of what made the identity so cohesive. For example, we stamped shapes on the portfolio and pencil bags distributed as swag. The composition of the stamps was varied and reflected the modularity of the identity. The typeface matured optically over time: the shapes became more resolved, characters became more balanced, symbolism and legibility evened out, and “over time we resolved to make it bolder.” In a way, this boldness better complemented our goals for the Antiracist Classroom:
“We believe in things that are bold…we believe in what we say, and bold typographic elements and visual identity were complementary to our own beliefs.”
The identity held together through all these evolutions, in part, because the rules Nidhi defined allowed any other designer involved — and there were a lot of designers involved — to pick up, use, and modify the language as needed. This was hugely important as we scrambled to pull the space, materials, and experience together in the last few weeks. Having a strong visual language for this type of gathering is critical because it builds confidence in us as organizers, eases participation, and helps communicate our ideas and commitment to the goals of the event.
The most rewarding yet overwhelming part of all this is hearing how others receive and interpret each of these painstakingly crafted elements of the visual identity. Kati Teague — an Art Center student and volunteer at Reconstructing Practice — describes the identity as an “undeciphered language” which seems to represent a utopian vision of a much-desired future. In Kati’s words:
“The identity spoke to me as if we’re building a new world.”
The visual language of the event seemed like a language of which we understand parts, but in which we are not yet fluent: “…it’s something that’s far ahead in the future that we…are trying to decode,” Nidhi mused. In part, this effect was produced by the visual illusion of the typeface: the juxtaposition of shapes and alphabet together seemed like an unfamiliar language. Symbolically, this was also about establishing that we have our own “language” among participants — and want to invite others to join us as we develop fluency — with respect to the topics discussed throughout Reconstructing Practice.
