


Published in the Yale Daily News, Commencement Issue, May 22, 2009.
If you flick through the design history books, you’ll notice that pretty much all the ‘‘great designers’’ have something in common. They’re men.
Design was a boys’ club for much of the last century. Even the Bauhaus, the ‘‘meritocratic’’ German art and design school, allowed women to study only ceramics and weaving at the dawn of the 1920s. Things were no better in France. When the 24-year-old Charlotte Perriand walked into Le Corbusier’s architectural studio in Paris in 1927 and asked for a job as a furniture designer, he rebuffed her with ‘‘We don’t embroider cushions here.’’
Gratifyingly, Corb apologized a few months later. Having seen Perriand’s work in an exhibition, he invited her to work for him. Together with his cousin Pierre Jeanneret, they designed some of the most famous furniture of the 20th century like their leather-and-steel chaise longue and Grand Confort chair. Yet Perriand is seldom credited as one of the designers; neither are other invisible women, like Mies van der Rohe’s collaborator Lilly Reich and, to some extent, Charles Eames’s wife, Ray.
Luckily, things have changed for the better. If you look at any area of design today, you’ll find a woman ranking among the Top 10. There’s Paula Scher in graphics, Lisa Strausfeld in software and Zuzana Licko in typography. Internationally, Hella Jongerius is hailed as a leader in furniture design, as is Irma Boom in books. They may not be household names, but all of them are as influential in their fields as Miuccia Prada is in fashion and Zaha Hadid in architecture.
But there’s a hitch. A few gifted women have smashed through the glass ceiling, but they are the exceptions that prove the rule. Only one woman — Hadid — has ever won the coveted Pritzker Architecture Prize. ‘‘It’s getting better all the time,’’ says Scher, who was the sole female partner of the Pentagram design group in New York for over a decade. ‘‘But it’s still harder for women than men.’’ In fact, the tiny number of female designers at the top isn’t at all representative of the profession at large, which is now dominated by women. The same goes for design education. Some 64 percent of last year’s design undergraduates at the Rhode Island School of Design were female, and the only course where men were in the majority was architecture. This is hardly a late-breaking phenomenon. Women have represented 55 percent of the membership of AIGA, the Professional Association for Design — the industry body for graphic designers — for the last decade. Yet very few of the big graphic design firms are run by women.
Why is that? Richard GrefĂ©, the association’s executive director, says he believes women prefer to work with hand-picked teams in smaller studios for carefully chosen clients. Jongerius’s experience of teaching in her native Netherlands supports this. ‘‘To make it to the top, you need to be outspoken, self-confident and entrepreneurial, apart from having design talent,’’ she says. ‘‘I have taught many talented young women and tried like hell to push them, but most were too shy, emotional, cautious and lacked self-confidence and ambition.’’
In other words, women are bedeviled by the same entitlement issues in design as in other professions and, it seems, by similar misperceptions. ‘‘When I work with manufacturers and issues arise around construction or mechanical systems, the questioning faces often turn to my male partners,’’ says the furniture designer Rosanne emotional, cautious and lacked self-confidence and ambition.’’
In other words, women are bedeviled by the same entitlement issues in design as in other professions and, it seems, by similar misperceptions. ‘‘When I work with manufacturers and issues arise around construction or mechanical systems, the questioning faces often turn to my male partners,’’ says the furniture designer Rosanne Somerson. ‘‘They suggest that I could answer better — I have terrific colleagues — but even then, there are times when my answers are ignored and the question is reiterated to them.’’ It isn’t just men who are guilty of this. ‘‘If a prospective client calls Pentagram and doesn’t ask for a partner by name, I see them thinking, Why did I get the woman? when I walk in,’’ Scher says. ‘‘Even the women do it.’’
There are also complaints about misogyny among their peers. ‘‘When Philippe Starck is quoted as saying that it used to be movie stars who got the beautiful women but now designers do, it doesn’t help,’’ Somerson observes. At the same time, some male designers seem entirely comfortable flaunting their sexuality. The Australian ‘‘design art’’ star Marc Newson once posed nude for Karl Lagerfeld’s camera, and the Belgian designer Arne Quinze’s lectures have been known to include films of himself flashing a bare tattooed chest.
Would a woman designer risk behaving like that? Or want to? It seems unlikely, despite the general conviction that things are improving. ‘‘Looking at my own life, and seeing the choices my students are making, it’s a different ballgame now,’’ says the graphic designer Jessica Helfand, who teaches at Yale. But are the most famous designers, male or female, always the best ones?
That’s another story.








I will be giving a brief presentation on my project, Graphic Feminism, this upcoming Friday at 5:00 PM in the Women's Center, as part of the Amy Rossborough Fellowship presentations. Please join me to discuss the content of these topics and the form I chose to represent them.Sheila Levrant de Bretteville, Dean of Graphic Design and Senior Critic at the Yale School of Art, is one of today’s most prominent feminist graphic designers. In 1971, she founded the California Institute of the Arts, the first women’s graphic design program; she also founded the Woman’s Building and its Women’s Graphic Center in Los Angeles in 1973.
De Bretteville came to Yale in 1990. Since the late 1950s, under the strong influence of Paul Rand, the Yale program had been a “bastion” of modernist theory. When de Bretteville was selected as the new Dean, Paul Rand resigned on principle and wrote a manifesto in the AIGA Journal of Graphic Design in response. Rand wrote, “To make the classroom a perpetual forum for political issues, for instance, is wrong; and to see aesthetics as sociology is grossly misleading.”
De Bretteville has become an outspoken designer and educator and an influential theorist of feminist design, which she defines as “graphic strategies that will enable us to listen to people who have not been heard from before. Feminism is about enabling those voices to be heard.”
On April 2, de Bretteville sat down with Broad Recognition Arts Editor Jessica Svendsen to discuss “feminine” typefaces, feminist form and content, and the difference between a female designer and a feminist designer.
That group of students became a collective, called Class Action. It still exists 19 years later. They did another billboard that dealt with the issue of battered women. They have also done interventions about gun control. It has to do with what the group feels the issue is of that time. It is totally student-run. It is now a student collective that is now only loosely connected with us…
Installed April 19, 2009.
There is a long tradition in the United States of posters promoting social and political causes or cultural events. Graphic design also marks the landscape with wayfinding systems, commercial signs, and institutional identities, annotating public space with logos, icons, and directional cues.Suffrage was the central issue for feminism in the early twentieth century. As art historian Paula Harper has pointed out, the suffrage posters of the 1910s (as opposed to cartoons and other graphic work) tended to be conservative in their rhetoric and visual style. While such works dated among the earliest uses in this century of the political picture poster-anticipating the medium’s widespread deployment during World War I-the strategies chosen by the posters’ publishers and designers aimed not so much to agitate as to reassure. While many nineteenth-century feminists had taken a revolutionary stance against society’s norms and institutions, the suffragists of the 1910s did so by suggesting that women’s vote would strengthen rather than destroy the existing culture.
Bertha M. Boye’s 1913 poster “Votes for Women” is symmetrical in design, reinforcing the sense of serene stability emanating from the statuelike figure at its center; the orb rising behind her head is both sun and halo, suggesting unambiguous warmth and virtue. The poster’s slogan appears not as an argument or battle cry, but as an unassailable truth, an “inalienable right” whose time had come.
In contrast to the 1910s, the women’s movement of the 1960s and 1970s viewed itself as a counterculture phenomenon, appearing within the context of the battle for Civil Rights, the protest against the war in Vietnam, the international student upheavals of 1968, and the sexual revolution. Feminism’s “second wave” unfolded within-and sometimes against-the anti-Establishment freedoms promoted by these movements. Posters, buttons, and bumper stickers, carrying such slogans as “Women’s Liberation IS the Revolution” and “Women Are Not Chicks” suggest that feminism was its own battle within the broader counterculture.
The Woman’s Building in Los Angeles, conceived as a studio and exhibition space for women’s art and design, was founded in 1973 by Sheila Levrant de Bretteville, Judy Chicago, and Arlene Raven. Printing equipment-from offset lithography to letterpress-was made available as a resource for personal and political expression. De Bretteville’s 1974 poster “Women in Design: The Next Decade” promoted one of the many public events organized there. Marching across a gridded landscape are eye screws fitted with bolts-translations into hardware of the female symbol that had become the movement’s icon.
De Bretteville, who worked as a successful commercial designer in the 1980s (redesigning, for example, the Los Angeles Times), as well as an educator and public artist through the 1990s, continued to assert her identity as a feminist. Few women designers have willingly used the “f-word,” fearful, perhaps, of alienating their colleagues or of casting doubt on the legitimacy of their own success. De Bretteville articulated a set of design strategies in the early 1980s that reflected feminist principles, such as the attempt to represent a subject from multiple perspectives, to allow words and images to contradict each other, or to allow viewers to complete the meaning of a communication.Such strategies coincided with the theories of experimental typography and postmodernism that were emerging around the same time.