May 14, 2010

Steve Jobs, Calligraphy, Lloyd Reynolds and Reed College

And me.

A week back someone said, “why are you always writing about Steve Jobs, I mean, really — what’s the connection?”

Calligraphy

The connection goes back to Stanford. And the Stanford Conference on Design. Back then, I would go to these yearly summits with designer buddies Michael CronanMichael VanderbylMichael Manwaring and should’ve been — Michael Schwab. Though he was one of the “Michaels” I can’t reference that he went with us. Nonetheless, I had a connection with him too. My opening link to San Francisco was working as a designer with John Casado, then others, consulting and mostly plying work in type design, calligraphy, illustration and graphics — it was an opening connection with designers all over the world, even though back then (the 70s) the concept of calligraphy really wasn’t known.

Most people hadn’t a clue about what calligraphy actually was. But there were outposts. In writing a series of pieces about Steve Jobs, Apple and iPad, I continued to reference the link to Jobs that Girvin’s has had over the past decades. It was at Stanford that I met Jobs — he spoke and I reached out to him. From there, he brought me to work as a designer for Apple, working on Macintosh. Then other projects…year on year.

Steve had referenced his time at Reed College, and while a student at The Evergreen State College, a school that’s founded on creating highly personalized programs, I’d met, and worked with, studied with and hung out with — as a kind of protegé — Lloyd Reynolds, a professor of English literature – and as well, the master innovator of newly “re-introducing” calligraphy into an arts curricula at Reed College. My journey into calligraphy, fine print, design, letterpress, the history of art and architecture, sign writing — exploring the integrations of culture and design, the shaping of content, was about going to the place of the maker. And Lloyd was one of them — traveling there, staying with him, hanging out on campus. I’d drive my red (Ruby) truck down there to Reed College, in Portland, Oregon and spend time exploring. She looked roughly like this:

And that exploration ranged from working live on calligraphic studies, to press work, type design and ranging the extraordinary array of his library, a truly incredible collection of books on all of the above. Lloyd’s real character, however, lay not only in the idea of teaching calligraphy as a skillful principle, but as well a complex cross disciplinary approach to art theory, architecture, art and architectural history, poetry, world culture and religions, mythic patterning and literature. Working with Lloyd was an extraordinary experience. And these lines from Steve exemplify that legacy and profound influence he had on me. And on Steve Jobs. Note the highlights, below.

“The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: “We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?” They said: “Of course.” My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents’ savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn’t see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn’t all romantic. I didn’t have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn’t have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”

That is where it all began. And still, the connection, to this day. The legacy that Steve refers to is powerful. The dots, the red thread, the song that goes to the heart can be something that’s not forgotten — if, importantly, the dots are contemplatively aligned — that the string is held, embraced, and found.

Meeting at the office, working with a Girvin team in exploring the nature of the alphabet — the calligraphy of the Italian Renaissance — the forms move back in time — from the present, to decades back, teaching in college.

Finally, to hundreds of years back, the fluent penmanship in offering fleet missives of the chancery — that cursive style that represents the penultimate flourish in a millennium and a half of evolution.


Calligraphy broad sheet | 1975

Meanwhile, Lynda Weinman, Bruce Heavin and Linda Stone stopped by, to explore the rare book library of Girvin, reminiscent of our time together, at the Evergreen State College. One day becomes another.

TSG
Notes on Girvin, Apple and Steve Jobs:
http://www.girvin.com/blog/?tag=steve-jobs
http://www.girvin.com/blog/?tag=apple

the reels: http://www.youtube.com/user/GIRVIN888

girvin blogs:
http://blog.girvin.com/
http://tim.girvin.com/Entries/index.php

girvin profiles and communities:
TED: http://www.ted.com/index.php/profiles/view/id/825
Behance: http://www.behance.net/GIRVIN-Branding
Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tgirvin/
Google: http://www.google.com/profiles/timgirvin
LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/timgirvin
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/people/Tim-Girvin/644114347
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Seattle-WA/GIRVIN/91069489624
Twitter: http://twitter.com/tgirvin

11 Responses to Steve Jobs, Calligraphy, Lloyd Reynolds and Reed College

  1. Tracy Pepe says:

    I am an individual that adores the traditions from life – “you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.”

    In many ways I return to tradition daily- the doors closed from the past seem to be a gateway for myself to find inspiration to move forward. More & more I find myself in my lab and studio reading and creating from traditional recipes – these recipes originally captured in the art of Calligraphy. For example, in 1693 an Italian perfumer -Giovanni Paolo de Feminis created a fragrance called “Aqua Mirabilis”. A fragrance that was so simple, yet inspiring on many levels – note structure, non-sexual appeal and therapeutic principles – This fragrance formula was said to be captured by the art of calligraphy. The formula eventually sold a few times, however the Muelhens family re-named the fragrance 4711 – this is still sold today!

    I have never had the pleasure of actually reading or seeing the original formula (for many perfumers sadly do not own their work – their firm does and this art is often off limits). However the true art of calligraphy seems to be a part in the fragrance creation that we as perfumers play with – a hidden secret. The words dance in our minds forming the next note. The grace and elegance of calligraphy captures the art of fragrance writing – briefs – formulas – blends, in a way that you can smell the creation in your minds eye. I always hand write my work in an old parch paper journal – never on hard drive and never store on a USB.

    Fascinating Read and thank you once again. Recently I received a note of hand written elegance, capturing the art of Calligraphy, an act of kindness but a treasure that has been added to my inspiration board, the reminder to add calligraphy to my own recipes. Thank you

  2. Pingback: Calligraphy « Type Talk

  3. Pingback: re: religion and technology » Mutiny and Modernism

  4. Pingback: iPad Trademark Rights | Galvani Legal LLC

  5. In regards to your calligraphy post, about the time I began writing poetry, I studied calligraphy with Sonoma State University French teacher, Adele Friedman, who was also a student of Georgianna Greenwood; both were students of master calligrapher Lloyd Reynolds. Interesting to note that your own chancery examples look a lot like Georgiana’s work. Lloyd had a strong influence. A distinctive style. My handwriting was awful (I’m dyslexic) and after I studied calligraphy, my handwriting dramatically improved. At the time, I didn’t have a typewriter, so I hand-calligraphed all my poems in a “running grass” style Italic chancery cursive script for David Bromige’s poetry classes. He seemed to like that—it was an Evergreen College tradition of which I knew nothing about: Gary Snyder, etc. About the time I began to use the Mac for layout, is when I quit doing calligraphy! Funny circle back to yours’ and Steve Jobs connection with Lloyd Reynolds and the evolution of the Mac’s superb typographic legacy. I guess I unconsciously recognized Lloyd Reynold’s influence even there.

    • TimG says:

      Maureen — fascinating, that telling; appreciate your added sharing — it’s true that one circle brings round another: rippling that content and storytelling. warmest | tim | portland OR (where it all began.)

  6. Pingback: GIRVIN | Strategic Branding Blog | Ma | Drawing nothingness

  7. Pingback: | Tim Girvin : Entries

  8. Lisa says:

    I studied caligraphy in high school under Bill Gunderson, another of Lloyd Reynolds’ students. That class kept me engaged as nothing else could. I think the best lesson I learned from Bill is that the “white space” in and around the letters is as important as the letters themselves. It taught me to view life from multiple perspectives. I got to see original pieces Mr. Reynolds had done for Bill and was awestruck by their balance and grace.

  9. Pattie Hill says:

    I was also at Reed during the time that “every label on every drawer” was hand-rendered by members of a community still deeply under the influence of Lloyd Reynolds. Arriving on campus for the first time in 1971, I felt my choice of Reed confirmed by the fact that virtually all communication within the community was so beautiful and intentional…every activity was ennobled, as it were. Ironically, the revolution that Steve Jobs led was part of the destruction of Reynold’s particular interdisciplinary aesthetic/ethic, and now, in this respect at least, Reed College is indistinguishable from any other campus festooned with mass-produced laser copies advertising events and activities that have lost a great deal of lustre.

  10. From one italic writer/teacher to another —

    Was any of the handwriting/calligraohy in the photos written by Steve Jobs? I’ve been looking for samples of his handwriting and calligraphy.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>