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Graphic Design

The Silence You Never Want to Hear

When I was taking my art and design classes in college, we would regularly attend critiques. These were approached with fear and anticipation, both of which were heightened by days without sleep or social interaction. It would never be surprising to walk into the studio and find a classmate sitting in the same spot they had been in for days without leaving. Our work was our life, and we couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Critiques meant putting all those hours, ideas, and sacrifices on the wall. A good critique would leave you blissful and a bad one could take days to recover from.

I remember one particularly brutal round of critiques. Some people had been awake for two straight days. We tiredly placed our boards on the wall and the professor stood back, silently observing. Then, just as silently, he walked down the row and knocked boards off the wall onto the floor. Three remained standing, and mine was not one of them. We got a long lecture about how horrible our work was that day. Some people left crying. This would happen several times in the years to come. Some people would always cry, some would leave the program, and some of us would stay. We would hate our professors sometimes. Other times, we would love them. It was not for the weak.

Years later, at one of my first jobs, I found myself standing at the end of a long conference room table. Sitting in front me was a table of older design professionals, all men, all wearing suits. They were not known for their kindness in critiques, and they were about to review my designs for their company. I felt like I was in front of a firing squad and focused to keep my voice and hands from shaking. If they were going to take me down, they weren’t going to do it before the review started.

The review went well that day. They did not rip me apart, but they weren’t always kind with their comments, either. I realized that those painful years in school had prepared me to take the heat that came with working in my field. If you want to be a designer, you’re going to need some thick skin. No one can teach you this, and there isn’t a technique to conquering that sickening feeling in your stomach when your work is being torn apart. There are, however, a few ways to ease the pain:

:: Have others critique your work first.
I have some amazing friends that I regularly turn to when I hit a wall or need a fresh pair of eyes. Over the years we’ve built up a beautifully brutal system of total honesty, so if something is horrible, we tell one another that it is horrible and why. It’s important to find people who have a strong design sense and who you can trust to be honest. It’s also good to critique others’ work, pick up on their design tendencies, and become aware of your own.

:: Be able to explain your work
There is a big difference between explaining what you do and defending what you do. While defending your work isn’t a bad thing, you shouldn’t defend without being able to explain. If your client wants to know why you chose the colors you did, or why you added certain elements, you should be able to explain why you did it and how it helps the piece. Saying, “because I liked how it looked” isn’t good enough. Be smart about your work.

:: Hide your hands
You might not be able to keep your hands from shaking, but you can keep everyone from noticing. You want to appear confident when you present your work. Take a deep breath, speak clearly, and look at the people you are talking to. Appearing confident (not arrogant) says that you stand behind your design and your skills, and they should, too. If you need to take a another breath after a harsh comment, take it. I’ve seen too many designers go down after becoming overly nervous and emotional about their work.

:: Take it in, shake it off.
There are going to be bad days and good days. People are going to love your work, but some people are going to hate your work. If someone hates your work, it doesn’t mean they hate you. Accept the criticism and try to learn something new. Shake it off and approach the next project knowing more than you did on the last one.

Like with other aspects of being a designer, you’ll either get it or you won’t. Hang in there, keep designing, and keep learning from experience.

*Photo found via this isn’t happiness.

Discussion

3 comments for “The Silence You Never Want to Hear”

  1. The best advice I ever got from an instructor was “never put little hearts around your work”. I agree its important to be confident yet open to criticism — because even if you love it, inevitably someone will not.

    Posted by PJ Sedgwick | August 26, 2009, 10:34 am
  2. great insight and so much truth.. this is very valid in any creative business or work. i have pitched marketing campaigns, advertising concepts, or even just innovative ideas and felt the exact same. Thick skin and a day-by-day tolerance of steel.

    Posted by Nathan Okuley | August 26, 2009, 10:36 am
  3. I remember a similar critique during my Freshman year as a Photojournalism major at The Rochester Institute of Technology. It was at the hands of Willie Osterman, who is a legendary teacher there. After my photos hit the floor on top of all the others I was crushed, you might say devastated, but I learned to be a better photographer and to take criticism even when it is hard.

    Posted by Matt Wunderle | August 26, 2009, 11:20 am

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