Paul Rand: a small mark can do a big job

A tiny mark can be recognisable without telling a company’s entire story. Paul Rand, the American graphic designer who lived from 1914 to 1996, worked on identities, covers, advertising and books. His archive at Yale preserves sketches, proofs and working materials. The apparent immediacy of the finished images therefore had a process behind it, rather than simply an idea arriving from nowhere. [1]

IBM provides a familiar example. The company’s history credits Rand with its striped identity of 1972: three letters formed from horizontal bands. A rebus poster followed in 1981, using an eye and a bee whose spoken English names suggest the first two letters. This is visual play within corporate communication. It does not prove that any amusing drawing will make an effective identity. [2]

MoMA’s collection also includes posters, fabrics and an illustration for the 1956 book I Know a Lot of Things. Looking at that selection takes us beyond the word logo: one designer can work in very different settings. The catalogue documents objects held by the museum. Our reading of the relationship between play and clarity is an editorial interpretation, rather than a verdict from everyone who used them. [3]

Here is an example invented by our editors. A class wants a recognisable sign for its book-sharing corner. Drawing shelves, twenty books, a window and every classmate says a lot. Now shrink the sheet to the size of a postage stamp: which details remain distinguishable? Next, invent a second mark using only two shapes. We are not copying Rand here; we are testing a design decision. [1]

A second exercise from our editors: show both marks to someone without immediately explaining what they represent. Ask what the person sees and what they remember a minute later. If they do not recognise a book, the reader has not failed. We have discovered a gap between our intention and their interpretation. We can change a shape, or add a clear name, and try the exercise again without rushing. [3]

Finally, an editorial distinction: recognising a mark does not mean knowing the quality of what it promises. We could design a very orderly symbol for a thoroughly disorganised shelf. Both the drawing and the service deserve attention. In our reading corner, we should therefore also check that books are accessible and instructions understandable. Graphics can begin a conversation; they cannot replace all the practical work that follows. [2]