Poster for the Painting Department Cranbrook Academy of Art, 27″ x 40″, offset lithography, 2008

Elliott Earls is a multimedia artist whose work is odd, playful, inspiring and obscenely thought provoking. Since 2001, he has been a Designer in Residence and Head of the 2-D Design department at Cranbrook Academy of Art. Elliott’s work takes art, design and music to a totally different realm. His passionate attitude towards his work and approachable personality makes him totally Hug-able. Check our Q&A with him, and you’ll know what we mean!

GraphicHug: Hello, Elliott. We are glad that you have decided to answer a few of our questions. As you know, we’re big fans. So, how is Bloomfield treating you these days? Would you like to give a shout out to Detroit?

Elliott Earls: It’s funny you should ask. I was just in Pittsburgh judging a design competition. In Pittsburgh of all places, I got into this hilarious argument about weather Bloomfield Hills (which is where Cranbrook is located) is in fact “Detroit.” The conversation was really more about whether or not my kids can say they are from “Detroit.” Basically we determined that Eminem patrols Eight Mile road with a stun gun and a pit bull in an attempt to make sure that Detroit maintains it’s tightly delineated geographical purity. I am repeatedly told that I live in the suburbs, and that Bloomfield Hills is NOT Detroit. Believe me I get it, Birmingham and Bloomfield Hills are certainly a different world than downtown Detroit but they are in the greater metropolitan area. So yea man, join me as I put down my brandy snifter, loosen my ascot, step out of my Maybach and give a shout out to all my homies below Eight Mile. “One love” bros…

GH: We all know you are multi-faceted. You’re a poet, musician, performer, designer and educator. Anything else we’ve missed? If you could stay in one of those shoes longest, which one would it be? If you could add some more shoes, which would they be? President?

EE: Good question. My position has always actually been about articulating a fluid continuity across disciplines. If I have a thesis with regard to this issue, it is that at the deepest level the similarities in the creative process far out weigh the differences. Obviously I identify as a graphic designer, however I have always maintained that graphic design is part of art proper. So a lot of the work that I have produced intentionally confounds these categories. I make objects, music, performance, film, type, graphics and performance.

You haven’t missed anything. There’s nothing I would necessarily add to my job description. There is no other role I would assume. I’m extremely happy in my career. I absolutely love my work. I love my relationship with my graduate students. I wake up almost everyday with more ideas than I could ever realize. I wake up looking forward to getting to the studio. My only real goal is to make more powerful work, to continue to have the means to produce it, and to grow the audience.

Poster for the Photography Department Cranbrook Academy of Art, 27″ x 40″, offset lithography, 2008

GH: We find your performances to be the most, dare we say, crazy. How do your “performances” inform your graphic design, and vice versa? You recently performed at Wim Crouwel’s 80th birthday bash at The Wolfsonian Museum in Miami. How did that go? What are your “Thoughts on Democracy?” Also, do you see yourself influenced by Crouwel’s work? If so, it’s not something we find apparent.

EE: Well, my performance work has been a kind of natural environment for my work. It allows me the opportunity to bring my music, graphics, spoken-word, and interactive work into close proximity to an audience. I think it’s hard for people that are interested in my work to get a handle on the many disparate elements. In my performance pieces, really what I’m doing is framing the work for them. I’m providing a context for the audience. Needless to say this, but one of many concerns that I am balancing when performing. For the most part, in the performance context, I am actually attempting to use my work as a vehicle to “move” people.

You mentioned that I performed at Wim Crowell’s 80th birthday bash at The Wolfsonian Museum. That’s not completely accurate. Actually, I was commissioned to make a new performance piece entitled “Thoughts on Democracy” that would debut at The Wolfsonian Museums’ VIP opening at Art Basel Miami Beach 2008. My performance was actually more related to the exhibition by the same name that was also in the museum. Wim’s birthday bash just happened to be in the museum that evening.

Have I been influenced by Wim Crowell? No, absolutely not. Now, having said that, I should point out that I have a deep respect for the man and his work. He’s a wonderfully warm man who has been passionately committed to his work. Look, I’m not saying this to be political. Although our approach to design could not be more different, the primary thing that I see in Wim is a passionate committed approach to work that has a clearly defined and undeniable point of view. That alone is worthy of deep respect. It’s kind of like I’m a basketball player and he’s a golfer. I love to watch him play, but I’d rather be working on my tomahawk jams.

Poster for the Print Media Department Cranbrook Academy of Art, 27″ x 40″, offset lithography, 2008

GH: The Elliott Earls brand is quite memorable and powerful. When one thinks of Elliott Earls, the quickest thing that comes to mind is that it ain’t gonna be boring. Has this been the case your whole life? Your 2D program at Cranbrook also seems to maintain a similar feel. Can you talk about this a bit?

EE: To quote Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, “If you ain’t in it to win it, then get the hell out… Come on feel the vibration!” Look, I realize that I get a reaction from my work. I realize that there are those who love it and those who hate it. I hear this all the time. My goal has always been to move the viewer. I am convinced that the single most important component for any artist is attitude (point of view). With my graduate students, I discuss this issue in great detail. I encourage, prod, poke and bait them to have courage and consider the attitude with which they are making their work. To date, I guess I would characterize a lot of my work as corporeal, visceral, aggressive, irreverent, sexualized, problematic and spiritual. But with my students, believe it or not, I think I very sensitively encourage them to understand that they do not need to deal with the same overt issues. They need to have an attitude and establish a point of view that is consistent with their concerns. As an example, if a graduate student is more comfortable with a quiet aesthetic, then their goal should be to do this with great courage, with an intense quietness. I believe the goal even in the soft and subtle should be to provide some “push back.”

Concerning the 2D department at Cranbrook. It’s my opinion that Cranbrook Academy of Art is a great institution. Not a good institution, but a great institution. At my core, I am very much against identifying with any institution. Cranbrook may be the exception to the rule. Cranbrook is a very anti-bureaucratic organization. It was founded on a very utopian educational model and comes pretty damn close to living up to the ideal. No classes. No teachers—technically we are Artists or Designers in Residence. And no grades. I am specifically attempting to help educate designers and artists who understand that to imitate is to be weak. In almost every way, I don’t want them to imitate my work. I want them to imitate the attitude and the spirit, not the manifestation.

SMART #7 for The Wolfsonian Museum, Auto vinyl, 2008

GH: We’ve read in the past, and even heard you say at one point, that your stay in commercial graphic design was short-lived. You were fired from both de Harak & Poulin Associates and Elektra Records for “general incompetence.” Have you ever looked back at one point and thought what could have been? Has your distance from the realms of commercial graphic design been a boon or a bust?

EE: I have no regrets. I got fired from deHarak and Poulin and Elektra records for good reason. I wanted more from the work then they were prepared to give. Let’s be real for a second here and dispense with the pretense. Graphic design at its core is not brain surgery. Four years of undergraduate education at an excellent design school could be encapsulated as: “Well designed font, flush left with appropriate leading.” This is not theoretical mathematics or even advanced calculus. As an example, if you were to survey the vast majority of CD (compact disk) releases during the nineties, the vast majority of them would involve setting an artists name in a display font in the upper left hand corner of the CD cover over a highly retouched headshot of the artist. I got fired from Elektra records for a reason. Hell, I would have fired me, too! I found this a totally inane way to spend my time. Especially after I had just spent two years at Cranbrook. I want so much more from my work. I will not accept this as my fate. From the day I entered graduate school I have used my skills in service of something else.

The big secret really is that I am not actually removed from the realms of commercial graphic design. My entire career I have done a lot of work that meets all of the criteria of traditional graphic design. As an example I just finished designing, eleven posters for Cranbrook, plus a complete redesign of their website. I designed SMART cars for the Wolfsonian Museum. I’m working on a logo for the science center. I enjoy this work, and I work hard to do it well. There is a continuity between the objects, music, performance, paintings and other work that might be characterized as “art” or “film” and my Graphic Design work. I seem them as exactly the same thing. I don’t love one more than the other. The distinction is artificial. The distinction is something that society places on the work. As the maker I see no distinction.

GH: What and where do you think graphic design can be most successfully applied?

EE: In the graduate program here at Cranbrook most of the students flow freely between these categorical distinctions. I encourage a very open and inclusive approach. graphic design can be an incredibly powerful agent, just not as it is most commonly practiced.

My father was in the insurance business. My brother works for a fortune 500 corporation. My uncle is a banker. I was raised in a middle-class Irish Catholic “ghetto” in super conservative Cincinnati, Ohio. So I understand that corporations can contribute positively to communities. Hell, I’m more or less the product of a corporate nation state, but graphic design in service of corporate communications and advertising is extremely problematic. At this point, it’s fairly obvious that “advertising,” as a philosophical category, is actually a form of culturally sanctioned lying, and that most forms of corporate “communication” are forms of dis-information.

I look to the post World War I avant-garde as my primary role models; John Heartfield, George Grosz, El Lissitzky, Kurt Schwitters, Max Ernst, Alexander Rodchenko. This is our birth right as graphic designers! This is our forgotten history. This is our true calling. Not being an indentured servant in the culture industry. Paul Rand should not be the collective hero of the field, he was not fit to carry John Heartfields’ blood stained boot. John Heartfield is the forgotten patron saint of graphic design. Formal invention coupled with a critical social program as an agent of positive social change, that is the simple definition of what graphic design should be. And that is what I would suggest my work always has been about.

Abraham-N-Isaac, 80″ x 42″, lambda photo print, 2004.

GH: What are your thoughts on criticism qua design—or so-called ‘critical practice’? Is this a sustainable way to practice design, or is it just snarky? Do you find that meddling with the status quo has value beyond the domain of the project?

EE: Hmm, as funny as this might sound. I’m not actually completely clear here what your asking. I’m fairly certain your asking about a kind of design practice that has the patina of cultural criticism, but falls short. As I was saying before, when addressing the role of the graphic designer, a “critical social program” is the whole ball of wax. I am in no way jaded or cynical about the power of design and art. I believe whole-heartedly in what we (in the studio) are doing. I believe in the transcendent power of education. I believe that work can be (must be) an agent of positive social change. I think there are many strategies to achieve that end.

GH: In addition to being a prolific maker, you’re an extremely articulate speaker and writer on the topic of design. Do you have any plans to publish your writings?

EE: I would hope so. It has been a goal of mine for the past ten years to write a book. But I have been so busy with other projects that it has been very difficult. For around the past four years, I have been working on a feature length film, actually a digital video shot in standard and high definition formats. The film is about the life of the artist. It’s a fairly strange film. In my studio, I always have a kind of network of enterprises. I have a number of short, medium and long-term projects. The major long-term project has been this film. As I near completion on The Saranay Motel I would like to look again at the possibility of producing a book. This would potentially take the place of the film.

I Too Like David Chase White Whale with Pitchfork, and Pickaxe and Slingshot, 24″ x 36″, offset lithography, 1997

GH: A few years ago at RISD, you once conducted a workshop purely on the process of making, making, and making and discovering later. How did you land upon this process and have you still maintained it even today? Why do you feel it important to impart on any students learning design?

EE: Most of what I know, and how I have come to work, is the result of attempting to think deeply about the limitations of what I was taught. Or it is a reaction to my professional experiences. Understanding limitation opens possibility. As an educator, I have attempted nothing short of the re-imagining of design process and methodology. Admittedly, this makes it sound like there is but one monolithic design process, and that my experience is all encompassing. I’m simplifying here for the sake of brevity.

In the studio at Cranbrook, I encourage my graduate students to use the design process as a way to interrogate a subject. What do I mean by this? Well, the classic design methodology that almost every student is taught in school is marked by distinct phases. There is usually an analytical (or research) phase, followed by a synthetic (or implementation) phase. The thesis or “idea” is the thing that guides the implementation (or “making.)” So basically, you are taught to come up with an idea, then design a piece that articulates that idea. At any moment within the design process if you have a doubt about what you are doing, you simply ask your self the question, “does what I am doing correlate clearly to my ‘idea’?” If the answer is “no,” then remove the item. If the answer is “yes,” keep the item.

We don’t do this. Now in order for me to fully articulate the difference in the design process that is being explored in my work (and in the studio at Cranbrook) I would have to write a small book. But, to radically simplify for the sake of clarity, the analytic and synthetic phases are completely mixed and culminate with the thesis. The outsider might see a form of post-facto rationalization. In every design program that I am aware of, what is commonly referred to as “post-facto rationalization” is considered cheating. It is seen as one of the worst possible things that a designer could do. In my work (and in the studio), it is considered the design process operating at its highest level. It is the goal. You should only understand fully (if that’s even possible) what you have done after the project is complete. The holistic design process is one of interrogation. Implementation is a form of research. How does this differ from the traditional distinction between an expressionist art making methodology and a traditional design methodology? I have a series of answers but I’m afraid I’d bore your readers; lets just say it has to do with a post-structural or syntactical approach to expressionism.

Eye Sling Shot Lions Logo, 1997

GH: As a form maker, from your typeface designs to your posters, it seems you are always pushing buttons. It seems you are quite free from any traditional notions and any traditional boundaries. Is this a conscious decision that informs your process? Or is your work, similarly, a process of making until you find something that makes sense?

EE: It’s a strange thing. I use my work as a platform to explore issues that concern me. Along with the work of the post WW-I avant-garde, who I already mentioned, I think of artists like Louise Bourgeois. The area that I find kind of strange is that in my work (and maybe even in this interview), I think I may come across as a bit “ornery.” This is very much at odds with my relationships with graduate students, family and friends. In this realm sensitivity, selflessness, kindness, integrity are a big concern for me.

I bring this up because, as romantic as this may sound, I believe that I am a vehicle for the work. Not the other way around. When things are “clicking” I am explicitly not bound by tradition and external expectation. When I am working I can feel “it” beginning to happen. I let the work breathe and manifest itself in a way that seems consistent with it’s own internal logic. Over the course of my career I have often felt a kind of subtle pressure to censor the work. To make it “conform.” To make it “fit in.” This usually happens immediately after I emerge from the fog of making. To date almost without exception I have resisted the impulse. I have risked letting the work be what it wants to be. So to answer your question, it is both a conscious decision and a result of letting the work manifest itself naturally. Believe it or not, the process that I’m talking about is at play in both the traditional and non-traditional work.

Elegy for the Collapse of the Empire (Detroit, Craft, and Disintegration), Hard paste porcelain, platinum, unfiltered beeswax, horsehair, honey bees, and steel, 2008.

GH: Can you explain the symbolism of the ‘one-eye’ in your work? Many of your characters take this form.

EE: The Cyclops in my work is usually associated with a head removed from a body. I have come to understand that this image represents the ego, while the missing body is the id. As a Jesuit educated, parochial school attending, former Catholic schoolboy, I have a kind of ingrained complex relationship with my animal nature. As ridiculous as this is going to be to say, I have always identified as a very physical person. The head removed from the body with its monocular vision represents my long-term battle to temper and tame my basest instincts. To simultaneously revel in my animal nature, but to find appropriate outlets for the impulse.

Liberty Weeps, 24″x36″, glicée print, 2008

GH: Graphic design and religion. What do you think about the intersection of these two subjects? Would you ever design the Bible?

EE: Religion is one of my favorite subjects. My complete and accurate response would require far more time than we have here. But the short answer is that I have been (and am) a critic of organized religion. I find organized religions very problematic because they are most often the living antithesis of what they purport to be. Now having said that, it’s important to point out that my beef is not with God. Or more accurately with the concept of God. In fact, I am a theist. I stand in awe of the transcendent mystery of our existence. Contrary to the manner in which many people interpret my work, a substantive portion of the work is an attempt to deal with existential, ethical and moral issues. A lot of my work is really an attempt to deal with religion, spirituality and ethics in a complex and nuanced way. It’s my bag. It’s my thing. I’d love to design a Bible.

GH: What are you hugging these days?

EE: I’m hugging my amazing wife and three incredible children, Henry, Scarlett and Harris.

GH: Thanks man!

EE: Thank you. I love the blog. Keep up the good work guys!