Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Magazine Design (Graphics)


Shape
This magazine encloses each paragraph and subsection within rectangles. The rectangle shape, after all, means stability and structure, while its direction emphasizes horizontal and vertical. Not only do these add extra structure to the page, but the paragraphs and graphics conform to the rectangle's shape more easily than do circles and triangles. The rectangles also manage to enclose the separate sections, dividing the page into bite-sized portions more pleasing to the eyes of the younger readers.

Notice, too, the circle beneath Cyber-Stein. It is the only circle that the design employs, intended to be out of place and to draw the eye. The text within the circle is important information which the readers must know, hence the contrast.

Dot

The dot, as Dondis established, is the irreducibly minimum unit of visual communication. The dot, as in the case of these bullets, serves as the marker, or reference point, drawing the eye to each sequentially. In this case, dots act as bullets, separating a sequence of tips beneath a common heading. The boxes that surround them alone are insufficient, and would seem cluttered due to quantity, but the dot-bullets mark and separate each point adequately.








Lines
One of the most basic uses of the line, in magazines or in any other publication: in the table of contents. The line's energy is used to direct the eye from each section to the page; without them, the reader might easily become confused as to which page went with which section, irritating him or her and preventing them from easily referencing the section they want. Especially with the text rotated slightly, the line's decisiveness allows the user to ignore the otherwise unsettling position, making it simple different and not jarring.

(On a side-note, all the scans were taken from this month's Shonen Jump magazine; the reason for my selection being not only that my intended eventual career will be in graphics desing (specifically in Magazine design), but this month's issue contained my first freelance article. So, I'm slightly biased towards this particular magazine and issue, needless to say.)

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Week 6 Exercise




















My area of interest in taking DAI has been graphics design - specifically that which relates to printed material. Here are two of my former textbooks which have quite different designs - Great American Prose Poetry on the right, which has a very intriguing and interesting design that works for the targeted audience, and Sudden Fiction international on the left, which is garish and in descriptive.

Apart from the bright, mismatched colors of SFI, the composition itself really leaves a lot to be desired. The placement of the text 'Sudden Fiction' was on the right track, but the slanted 'International', in a different font no less, did not sharpen the effect but rather made it more ambiguous (and less legible). The grouping both at the top and bottom really prevented the words emphasized from appearing especially remarkable - 'edited by' is less noticible than the people it connotes. There really isn't much stress in the design either - all the components feel so mismatched that wherever stress was intended instead feels like an eyesore, or else downright confusing.

GAPP, on the other hand, manages for a more pleasing look. The text is grouped and balanced nicely; the placement of the title and editor just off-center attracts the eye with a smidge of sharpness but still comes off as more-or-less leveled. The lines on the left add more sharpness by reminding the prospective reader of ruled school paper. This provides a comforting, homey touch that carries with it the approachability of the familiar and lack judgment and also draws the viewer's eye back to the text. The image below adds a fine element of whimsy, reminding everyone that poetry doesn't need to make sense in order to be great: the woman with her parrot in the desert thunderstorm hardly looks very serious, yet compels the viewer to probe deeper for meaning beneath the nonsense. Which is, after all, what poetry so often aspires to do.