Archive
AGI, A Logical Product of the 1950s
The world was catching its breath, although the mess had not yet been cleaned up, by any means. The hopes and expectations cherished during the war had still to be forged into realities. Food was still scarce, the cry for raw materials loud.
The allies of 1939–1945 had once again retreated to their respective sides of the Iron Curtain. The echo of the Bomb was still resounding in everyone’s ears.
New alliances were already in place (NATO, 1949) or in the making (Warsaw Pact, 1955). The Marshall Plan was helping the (western) European countries back on their feet, ready to reassume their role as potential partners in a global market.
The decade was soon shaken by the start of the Korean War. General Eisenhower became the first Supreme Commander of NATO and, a few years later, US President. Nuclear weapons were on the advance: the British got their own atom bomb, the USA produced an H-bomb, a few years later the UK copied them. The French became painfully embroiled in troubles in their Indo-Chinese territories and Algeria. Stalin died. King George VI died and Elizabeth II was crowned while the world watched on television.
Anthony Eden succeeded Churchill and the Tories came to power. Harold Macmillan was the next PM. Argentina ousted Peron. Tunisia and Morocco gained independence. Pakistan parted from India and declared itself an Islamic republic. Nasser came to power in Egypt. Israel temporarily occupied the Sinai. War broke out over the Suez Canal. The Soviets invaded Hungary. Adenauer was elected Chancellor of Germany. General de Gaulle became the French premier. Fidel Castro seized power in Havana. Archbishop Makarios, initially exiled, became president of Cyprus. And the Dalai Lama fled Tibet for India.
The US launched Explorer, the first terrestrial satellite. The French, the Citroen DS. Transistors were developed, as were nuclear power stations and penicillin. Brussels launched its world exhibition in 1958, with - appropriately - the Atomium. Trendsetting architectural structures were rising everywhere: the UN Headquarters and the Guggenheim Museum in New York, Oscar Niemeyer's government buildings in Brazil, Unesco in Paris, Le Corbusier's Unité d'Habitation in Marseilles and his Chandigarh Plan in India, Buckminster Fuller's domes. Ponti's Pirelli tower in Milan. Too many to mention, in fact. And due to - or perhaps despite - all that, for many the spirit had returned. People wanted to broaden their horizons, to travel and renew old friendships and make new contacts, to find out what advances were being made by professional colleagues elsewhere. Curiosity, openness, willingness to share and exchange, the need for a sounding board. In search of new frontiers, new ideals and new opportunities.
One way of remedying the information deficit, a by‑product of the war years, was to establish new international contacts. The world was still big, the means of travelling limited, foreign currency was not easy to come by; in the weaker economies wages and fees were still meagre. Nevertheless, the time seemed ripe for initiatives, such as an ‘Alliance Graphique Internationale'. The founding fathers and the colleagues they wrote to in the European hinterland looked forward to discussion, possible inspiration, recognition and acknowledgment. James Cross, the Californian AGI president from 1988 to 1992, once described the organization as ‘a family'. That was certainly so in the early years, when the number of members was fewer than a village football club. The ‘formula' proved to be an attractive one, however: the opportunities to meet ‘the man behind the work', the interchange of opinions, the unique sector-oriented exhibitions, the possibility of intensifying contact at the annual congresses ‘somewhere in Europe'.
Swiss colleagues, who had escaped the ravages of war, were able to demonstrate that they had not been idle. By then, the ‘Swiss Style' had gained a clear, theoretical foundation. Former Bauhaus students Max Bill and Theo Ballmer were there at the birth of the arithmetic grid and geometric letter shapes. This masterplan for the Swiss approach, which had rapidly increased in significance, gained a new name, the International Style. Designers of the calibre of Josef Müller-Brockmann, Armin Hofmann, Hans Neuburg and Emil Ruder were instrumental in the further development and promotion of the Swiss design approach. They lectured in Zürich and Basel, published and set examples in their own work.
The British and their refugees had been able to make themselves useful in wartime information and were quickly provided with new challenges for their skills in projects such as the 1948 London Olympic Games and the Festival of Britain, in 1951.
The Dutch had had to keep a low profile under German occupation. A number of designers had placed their skills at the disposal of the resistance, producing underground newspapers and forging official stamps and documents. Others were forced to go into hiding or were picked up by the Gestapo, the Nazis' secret police. Will Sandberg prepared the GKf, the organization of Dutch applied artists, for after liberation, when he became its chairman. He was also instrumental in initiating design activities as director of Amsterdam's Stedelijk Museum.
Belgium remained for a long time an isolated ‘island' in an ocean of design. For decades, Jacques Richez, a prominent AGI member, strove in vain against the hegemony of the advertising agencies that totally dominated design in his country.
Italy was steeped in a history unique in Western civilization. The continued presence of the Etruscans, the Roman Empire and Greek heritage, the Renaissance and 20th-century Futurism have perpetually confronted the man in the street with exceptional painters, sculptors and architects. In this climate, design was easily able to find itself a place. It is remarkable that there were nevertheless no design courses available in Italy until the 1960s. Earlier designers had been trained as painters, architects or sculptors. However, Italian design output did not suffer qualitatively in any way.
Shortly after the war, Germany had other worries. In 1955, OWH Hadank, an influential teacher, was made an ‘honorary member' of the AGI; amazing, actually, as all AGI members were honorary members in a way. Anton Stankowski, who had helped pioneer Swiss design before the war, became an AGI member in 1956.
The Swedes had also escaped the direct consequences of war. A design scene had emerged, which was primarily visible in editorial design and early forms of corporate identity.
Most French designers with any reputation were born around the ‘fin de siècle' or in the early decades of the new century. Old enough to have played a substantial role as the masters of the poster and therefore promoters of French wine, spirits, tobacco and tourism, but still young enough to pick up their work again after the war. They were able to share in the public recognition that French painters and sculptors enjoyed. That made Paris the obvious choice as the birthplace of the AGI.
In the US, the role of former European ‘imports' was a strong determining factor in the design climate. After all, the US magazine style differed greatly from that in Europe. Many designers were art directors for magazines, a discipline only known in Europe in the advertising world. The Container Corporation of America (CCA) can be seen as a pioneer in corporate design policy, starting as early as 1936. When AGI was established, the reputation of American colleagues was strong enough to cross the still wide Atlantic Ocean. ‘The Yanks were coming!'
Roughly speaking, this was the ‘playing field' of international graphic design in 1951, barely six years after Hiroshima. We have to realize that the number of ‘players' compared with today was extremely limited and therefore easy to manage and oversee. It was the Swiss Heiri Steiner, based in Paris, who brought forward the idea of an Alliance. Actually his compatriot Alfred Girardclos who had suggested it to him.
The five founding fathers met in Paris in 1951: the Frenchmen Jean Picart Le Doux, Jacques Nathan Garamond and Jean Colin, and the Swiss Fritz Bühler and Donald Brun.
Then followed the first formal meeting, in which the Swiss Pierre Monnerat, the Englishman Ashley Havinden, George Him and Henrion and the Swede Anders Beckman took part. Cathy Garamond acted as secretary and, in gratitude, was granted ‘vice-presidency for life'. This group initiated the contacts with ‘foreign correspondents' who, in turn, approached aspiring members in their own countries.
The first wave of members was characteristic of how vague the meaning of the concept was: what was graphic design before it was known as such? It led to a number of misunderstandings, ‘displaced persons'. They were sometimes akin to talented athletes who had started out as footballers. Fast, perhaps, but without any gift for ball control. Some were tile painters or drew the type of postcard you and I would never dream of buying. And so they departed, to achieve fame and happiness, or otherwise, in their own crafts.
The major changes in graphic production that were to mark the second half of the century began to tentatively reveal themselves in the 1950s.
Offset was rattling at the door of relief printing. Photo-setting still had a lot of progress to make before it could undermine traditional wood and lead typesetting. Screenprinting, so crucial to poster production, was becoming more professional and undergoing forms of automation. Repro techniques were evolving rapidly. Other European users were increasingly obtaining four‑colour quality from Switzerland. The market was flooded with dry transfer lettering, not always to the benefit of letterspacing.
It was time for graphic designers to roll up their sleeves and get ready for the many dramatic innovations awaiting them.
Ben Bos, Amsterdam, 2006
Essay taken from 'AGI: Graphic Design Since 1950' by Ben & Elly Bos