Professional Documents
Culture Documents
doi:10.1093/jdh/epw014
Journal of Design History Histories of Design Pedagogy Virtual
Special Issue for Journal of Design
History
Maya Oppenheimer
‘Histories of Design Pedagogy’ gathers material from across three decades of the Journal
of Design History to juxtapose distinct investigations into design education across various
geographies, contexts, relationships and methodological concerns. By isolating three
overarching themes to structure twelve articles, this introduction also makes an argument
towards future design pedagogy, suggesting an Urmodell, or master plan, of elements
in design pedagogy that is informed by key issues debated by and through the articles
Contents
Design Systems and Projects: Training, Industry, Art
and Design
1 Stana Nenadic, ‘Designers in the Nineteenth-Century Scottish Fancy Textile Indus-
try: Education, Employment and Exhibition’, Journal of Design History 27, no. 2
(2014): 115–130
2 Daniela N. Prina, ‘Design in Belgium before Art Nouveau: Art, Industry and the
Reform of Artistic Education in the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century’, Jour-
nal of Design History 23, no. 4 (2010): 329–350
3 Alain Findeli, ‘Design Education and Industry: the Laborious Beginnings of the Insti-
tute of Design in Chicago in 1944’, Journal of Design History 4, no. 2 (1991): 97–113
4 Susan Bittker, ‘[Education] Report on a Survey of Recent Crafts and Design Gradu-
ates of Scottish Art Colleges’, Journal of Design History 2, nos 2–3 (1989): 219–228
1
6 Anna Rowland, ‘Business Management at the Weimar Bauhaus', Journal of Design
History 1, no. 3–4 (1988): 153–175
7 Heiner Jacob, ‘HfG Ulm: A Personal View of an Experiment in Democracy and
Design Education’, Journal of Design History 1, nos 3–4 (1998): 221–234
8 David Mulberg, ‘[Education] “Just Don’t Ask Me to Deine It”: Perceptions of Technol-
ogy in the National Curriculum’, Journal of Design History 6, no. 4 (1993): 301–305
9 Jane Pavitt, ‘[Archives and Collections] The Camberwell Collection of Applied Arts,
Camberwell College of Arts, The London Institute’, Journal of Design History 10,
no. 2 (1997), 225–229
It seems to me that the most important thing that we have to do is improve the
state of education in our schools. We’ve got to insert some level of culture, some
level of history, some level of philosophy. Without that, we will have just a continu-
ous stream of little designers and craftspersons, or paste-up people at best. We
need to provide a cultural structure to our professions.
Massimo Vignelli2
Design pedagogy is also a conversation about design practice. How we train students
today will steward and inluence future practice. This, in turn, affects our daily lives, as
Sheila Levrant de Bretteville points out above. As a graphic designer and design educa-
tor, de Bretteville’s position on design comes at a particular social and cultural moment
A double epigraph for a dual task: de Bretteville and Vignelli foreshadow the themes
presented in this virtual special issue for Journal of Design History (JDH) and encapsulate
the spirit in which it was compiled. Both quotations are drawn from lectures delivered to
design students and educators and both were uttered by practising designers who had
Since its irst issue in 1988, the JDH has published a broad spectrum of contributions
to design history: research methodologies, typologies, case studies and surveys of con-
stituencies of design, as well as social, cultural, political and post-colonial histories, to
name a few. A virtual special issue on histories of design pedagogy is an important
addition to the portfolio of the JDH but also to the agenda of the afiliated Design
History Society (DHS). Both of these bodies have played an important role in the emer-
gence of design history as an academic ield of inquiry, a history I discuss later on.
The twelve articles presented in this issue were selected from back issues of the JDH
because they address particular debates, interests and contexts in the history of design
pedagogy that inform the shape of present and future practice.
In addition to highlighting the speciic role of the JDH and the DHS in the history of
design, this issue is especially timely due to a range of anniversaries of societies and
courses related to design and design history education. ‘40 Years On: The Domain of
Design History—Looking Back Looking Forward’, a conference hosted at Milton Keynes
in May 2015, hosted several scholars involved in the early stages of design history’s
development as a discipline and its curriculum in higher education. The Design Research
Society’s iftieth anniversary conference proceedings at the University of Brighton in
2016 also considers histories of design research, to better understand present debates
as well as emerging pedagogical approaches. The continued growth of these scholarly
constituencies has also increased the number of attempts, and some would argue, the
need, to deine and assess their own remits as well as that of design.
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loose general theory, the fashion of design thinking as it enters management academia
and buzz-speak in innovation circles ignores the diversity of thinking and training that
makes design practices effective tools for stewarding change. Misleading design think-
ing can ignore pedagogical principles that require time, which a culture of disrup-
tion cannot allow; examples can include relexive, inclusive and critical frameworks, let
alone experimentation. It can also generalize across disparate methods and practices of
design. The rhetoric of design thinking is very exciting, but it must also be responsible.
This brings me to a fourth reason to consider design pedagogy here: while design-
related industries grow, they inluence job markets, gross domestic products and global
trade. The Creative Industries Economic Estimates for January 2015 released by the
UK Department for Culture Media & Sport reports employment statistics and gross
value added igures for ‘those industries which have their origin in individual creativity,
skill and talent and which have a potential for wealth and job creation through the
generation and exploitation of intellectual property’. This includes design. In 2013, the
creative industries accounted for 1.71 million jobs in 2013. This igure grew by 3.9 %
annually between 1997 and 2013, resulting in a gross value added igure of £76.9 bil-
lion, or 5.0 % of the UK economy as a whole.7
I use the UK as an example case here because it is the base for the JDH, and the UK
example also relects a scenario experienced in other countries: design is lucrative.
However, how will cuts to higher education, and proposed implementations of new
budgetary constraints, proliferating excellence frameworks, fewer contracted teach-
ing positions and increasing student numbers paying unprecedented fees, affect the
education of future designers? Will the lucrative industry support or advocate stable
investment in education, and who will have access to this training?
A third literature exists in the form of disciplinary textbooks that outline the scope and
mandate of academic approaches to design and design history. They contain historiog-
raphy, and guidance on methodology, applications and subject areas. A second volume
from Thistlewood, Critical Studies in Art and Design Education, gathers fourteen essays
from educators working in Critical Studies. He explains this is ‘an accepted abbreviated
term for those parts of the art and design curriculum, in all levels of education, that
embrace art history, aesthetic theories, and the social, economic, political, religious and
numerous other contexts within which the practice of art and design exists, develops
and fulils its purpose’.10
Mandatory history of art and complementary studies for art and design students began
formally with Sir William Coldstream, who cemented them as a degree requirement in
his 1970 report. This ‘serious study’ was intended to:
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enable the student to understand relationships between his own activities and the
culture within which he lives as it has evolved. Such studies should therefore offer
him different ways of looking at art and design, and begin to build up a back-
ground against which he can view the experience of the studio. They should give
him experience of alternative ways of collecting, ordering and evaluating informa-
tion. Complementary studies should be an integral part of the student’s art and
design education, informing but not dictating to the creative aspects of his work.11
Thistlewood’s book attempted to address these tensions, as have other texts, including
early publications seeking to deine design history and its delivery. Hazel Conway edited
Design History: A Students’ Handbook and gathered together essays from early con-
tributors to the discipline when its teaching involved targeted provision towards spe-
cialisms: dress and textiles, ceramics, furniture, interiors, industrial design and graphics.
Conway also points out early challenges for students of design history: interpretation
Until recently, a gap existed in this literature. Design historians, in a moment of relec-
tion and disciplinary change, are updating mediations on methods and authoring
new textbooks. Rebecca Houze and Grace Lees-Maffei’s Design History Reader is
one such example. Its table of contents reveals not only a growth in scholarship but
a sustained connection to allied ields, including texts that are also found in readers
for visual culture, art history, sociology and material culture studies. It also adheres
to important agendas in design history: a relexive tone that questions what it is as
well as what it ‘should be’; consideration of gender in the history of design; engag-
ing non-Western geographies and discourses on design; exploration of new design
cultures, practices and technologies. Kjetil Fallan’s Design History: Understanding
Theory and Method is also a valuable addition to resources and sets down a histori-
ography, renewing questions about deinitions and methods posed by Walker, and
assessing key debates and advocating interdisciplinarities—particularly towards sci-
ence and technology studies.14
The literature and exchange on art and design education is much broader than this
brief list, and has been ongoing for decades in key academic journals including Design
& Culture, Design Journal and Art, Design & Communication in Higher Education.
In 1990, Design Issues published a special issue, ‘Educating the Designer’. Editors
Leon Bellin and Marco Diani invited practicing designers and educators to confront,
refute, debate and perhaps clarify thoughts on design education, host ‘meaningful
discussion’ and ‘perhaps lead to signiicant changes’.15 Five years later, Design Issues
hosted a similar inquest speciically on the proile of history in design education.
Compiled by the journal’s regular editors, Victor Margolin, Richard Buchanan and
Dennis Doordan, ‘Telling the History of Design’ probed the status and ‘purpose in
providing an historical account of the subject, particularly for a discipline and related
professions that are primarily oriented towards present and future action’.16 While
In ‘Rethinking Design Education for the 21st Century’, Alain Findeli explains his own
model for pedagogy. His thinking is informed by research into histories of design peda-
gogy, particularly the Bauhaus, that inform a concept he presents as an Urmodell,
or master plan, of design curriculum. Findeli explains its elements are comprised of
equal parts art, science and technology; his method of visualizing this model consists
of a Venn diagram with three linked circles representing these elements.21 His analy-
sis of the pedagogical structures across three case studies—the Bauhaus in Weimar
and Dessau, the New Bauhaus in Chicago and the Hochschule fur Gestaltung (HfG)
in Ulm—suggests they implemented alternative versions of this balance but with the
same core elements. HfG, for example, prioritized science and technology over an artis-
tic-focused curriculum. The adapted model he presents to visualize pedagogy at HfG
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involves two concentric circles representing the prioritization of science and technology
and a separate, detached circle for artistry. This visualization exercise is compelling and
allows one to question what the overall model would look like when translated from
the metaphorical into a particular, given context. This is Findeli’s project.
Debates related to pedagogy, as Findeli concedes, involve disagreements over the ‘rela-
tive importance’ and ‘respective function’ of curricular elements. It is a dificult quality
to measure. Analysis requires taking the educator’s intent and pedagogical framing
into account but also the student’s retention and translated experience, resulting in
a measured outcome that may differ from the original model. The result, in Findeli’s
concept, should adapt elements from the Urmodell into a balanced ‘design purpose/
project’. This requires ethical awareness to achieve balance, in addition to a shift from
the applied to the epistemological and away from the problem/solution orientation.
Findeli advocates a process where designers see themselves alongside users as intel-
ligent, responsible stakeholders in a system: (1) The problem becomes State A of a
System; (2) The solution becomes State B of that system; (3) The designer and user
are stakeholders in the system or product and are transformed via its emergence and
To support his model, Findeli emphasizes attention to the human aspect of a design
brief rather than its product, followed by a shift from production, aesthetics or ergo-
nomics to services and less material consumption. Design systems and projects are
embedded and involved rather than applied and consumed.22 Ostensibly, as design
states go from A to B to A2 to B2, these elements will metamorphose to accommodate
best practice in a particular design context. The manner and process of this perpetual
system also begets perpetual debate.
The proposed model is informed by my research within and outside the JDH and dem-
onstrates how design history can inform future practice. Each article explains how
these elements have affected design education, and their authors provide valuable
contexts that help present scholars and practitioners understand these inluences. As
an Urmodell, the image shown is not a solid framework but a provocation. Models
are a means of testing and disseminating speculative analogies of how phenomena
The second thematic section, ‘Ethics and Methods’, brings the discussion inside the design
institution and takes a socio-historical view of emerging pedagogical structures and expe-
riences. Ethics are assessed here; so too are the expanding roles of research into new
methods, materials and applications of design practice (emerging technologies and new
collaborations with science). Expanding degree study at new and advanced levels, includ-
ing PhDs in design, is creating a broader base for design in higher education. This section
asks how design pedagogy can reach wider audiences, facilitate global collaboration and
maintain a critical position where development is paired with relection and debate.
The third and inal section, ‘Critical Histories and Theories’, relates to design history and
design studies from their growth in the 1970s to the present. This is often how histories
and theories of design and their afiliated contextual studies are framed in higher edu-
cation—in fractional proportion to design practice. My intention here is to place this
element as an invaluable requirement in future design practice, not just for the beneits
for students but also for the relexive and analytical exercises it affords educators. Each
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essay in this third section discusses turns and articulations that seek to situate histories
of design within studio practice and also speaks to the value design historians and their
research methods have to enhancing design.
Taking a similar focus on this period, Daniela Prina’s article, ‘Design in Belgium before
Art Nouveau: Art, Industry and the Reform of Artistic Education in the Second Half of
the Nineteenth Century’, considers reformers’ aims of instructing craftsmen, artisans,
manufacturers and the public across social classes in the importance and nature of
‘good taste’. Drawing was a key locus of debate in the process of improving design and
design education. It was a means of raising the quality not only of ornamentation and
products, but also of nationally-manufactured goods; that allowed competition at inter-
national levels and the consolidation of an identiiable Belgian niche in these markets.32
Prina explains how igureheads from across the arts, architecture and policy advocated
There is a persistent debate about skills developed during design education and how
they prepare students for work in their ield, one that Nenadic and Prina describe in rela-
tion to histories of nationalism and industry. Alain Findeli, on the other hand, uses the
tension between educational institution and industry—namely, the dificulty of pairing
pedagogical priorities of intellectual development with industrial demands toward pro-
duction—to address the possibility and inevitability of ‘teaching as industry’. His paper
‘Design Education and Industry: the Laborious Beginnings of the Institute of Design
in Chicago in 1944’ begins with the suggestion: ‘If there is an area which is currently
undergoing change under the pressure of industrialism, it is certainly that of university
What is the design school for? The Urmodell I put forward suggests design pedagogy
is responsible for three elements. One is the acquisition of professional design skills
through design work. It is important to understand historical attempts to structure
design education in order to understand its failures and legacies. How we measure the
profession and act of design post-education is also important in this project. So too
are the discussions we have with students about what they are doing, why, and what
they need. Susan Bittker’s ‘Report on a Survey of Recent Crafts and Design Graduates
of Scottish Art Colleges’, is a compelling contribution to this perspective. Unlike the
National Student Survey and statistical equivalents today, Bittker proiles the designer
rather than institutional performance, by gathering statistical and qualitative data on
Scottish art, craft and design graduates from four colleges, Duncan of Jordanstone
College of Art, Edinburgh College of Art, Gray’s School of Art and Glasgow School
of Art, between 1984 and 1986. As a recent graduate of Edinburgh College of Art,
Bittker was concerned that fellow makers were under-equipped to enter the market-
place and workforce, which is a common anxiety for present day students who strive
to be ‘industry ready’. She mailed comprehensive surveys with an explanatory cover-
ing letter to 475 graduates and received 158 completed surveys in return, with many
respondents attaching supplementary material including business cards, promotional
materials and extensive letters. A comprehensive summary of the questionnaire can
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be found in Bittker’s report, but the section on College Training is particularly rele-
vant to this issue. It communicates a weak review on several points: business studies
were criticized for being too narrow or ‘not suficiently tied to the real world’; market
preparation was lacking; and there was little encouragement to collaborate with other
departments (a staple explained by Findeli in the Institute of Design before its depart-
mental re-organization). As a result, ‘only 16 per cent of respondents felt their college
had prepared them “well or very well” for their chosen career’, followed by fourteen
percent adequately and seventy percent ‘not very well or not at all’. Eighty-four percent
suggest changes to improve the curriculum.37
Utopia, a term from Findeli’s essay, summarizes this section.38 Attempts to balance
the interests of design education, student feedback and industry requirements are in
constant pursuit of a harmonious, seemingly impossible equilibrium. For Nenadic, the
establishment of schools to directly support and improve industry was challenged by
manufacturers’ preference to copy foreign designs and ignore locally-trained pattern
designers; Prina’s battle between academies and drawing schools over the shaping of
national identity via aesthetics of taste and industrial products was thwarted by tradi-
In ‘First Steps: Early Design Education and Professionalization in Greece’, Artemis Yagou
describes the absence of a recognizable design profession in inter-war Greece—a
period of socio-political instability and powerful cultural exchange that commenced
with signiicant refugee immigration.39 Population growth increased market demand
and labour forces and brought new knowledge, including professional skills in weav-
ing, ceramics, woodcarving, metalwork and decorative work. For Yagou, investigating
education in this context means considering the structures of established professional
specialization in emerging design practice, which includes the consolidation of art and
Heiner Jacob had direct experience of a pedagogical experiment derived from the
Bauhaus’ precedent. In his article ‘HfG Ulm: A Personal View of an Experiment in
Democracy and Design Education’, he explains how a project to re-educate young
Germans towards ‘a spiritual regeneration’ begat plans for an adult education cen-
tre and eventually the school for environmental design in Ulm.44 The school had four
departments: Industrial Design, Information (later Film-making), Visual Communication
and Industrialized Building, which welcomed about 150 students a year with a staff-
student ratio of 1:16. Funding was an issue due to the political afiliations of founders
and wavering support from the State, which began to make stipulations on the HfG’s
operations, including an attempt, subsequently, to absorb it into a State University.
Jacob’s irst-hand account of his studentship describes the diverse and active school
community, its academic development and the custom facility that was designed by
Max Bill with staff and student contributions on construction and furniture design and
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production. Joint meals were timed to ensure communication between departments
and debates on design and philosophy: ‘design [was] viewed as the ethics underly-
ing social developments’.45 The curriculum was reviewed and adjusted annually via an
Educational Conference, resulting in luid and argument-illed discussions that affected
the school’s operations and reputation. Studios were small (no more than ifteen pupils)
and visiting lecturers numbered four to every full-time staff member, providing stability,
variety and counterpoint. ‘Most importantly,’ Jacob concludes, through a close relation-
ship with tutors, students ‘acquired a methodology, a structured approach to work—
something which was totally non-existent in many other colleges.’46 Jacob insists that
even with several pioneering practices in design methods and materials, the key legacy
of the HfG is sequential: its role-model alumni who now hold key positions in industry.
For a more effective and ethically relexive pedagogical framework to function, industry
and cultural partners, as well as government and policy makers, must understand and
support the design school’s role of educating not only its enrolled students but also the
broader sector. Education, furthermore, goes beyond the technical, the ‘paste-up’ fore-
shadowed by Vignelli, and develops critical decision-making skills that improve rather
than reiterate practice.
We recognize that each of the terms ‘design’ and ‘technology’ can convey differ-
ent meanings to different people [. . .] we acknowledge that some differences in
perceptions of both ‘design’ and ‘technology’ exist and [. . .] our image should
[. . .] be easily understood, and where necessary readily translated into their own
terms by teachers whatever their subject.48
The inal piece in this section, Jane Pavitt’s Archives & Collections Report on the
Camberwell Collection of Applied Arts, extends the discussion on education tools by
giving an account of the formation and implementation of object collections in early
and higher education schools. Facilitating learning via primary resources encourages
students to be analytical, to see their everyday environment as illed with designed
objects and agents, and to pursue the histories behind said objects, agents and design-
ers. Some courses, such as the Royal College of Art/Victoria & Albert Museum History
[. . .] a right direction to the taste of boys and girls while they are still at school [. .
.] making the understanding [that] the design of the things around us is part of our
daily life, and our judgments and our appreciation depends much on our happi-
ness in life. Design is not just something for those who can draw, anyone can get
pleasure from the shape of a wooden desk or the satisfying curve of a handle.51
Camberwell College of Arts still maintains the ‘public and educational purpose’ of the
largely intact collections, through research, cataloguing and exhibitions. This preserves
Yagou begins her article with a powerful remark: ‘Education relects a society’s choices
about how it wants to shape its future. Learning about education’s history is funda-
mental to understanding the present and guiding future choices’.53 Articles in this
issue have so far addressed Western contexts over the past two centuries, but explor-
ing the development of global design pedagogy would push this discussion further.
Singanapalli Balaram, for example, argues that contemporary Indian design pedagogy
is informed by a cultural understanding of design with a speciic and complex cul-
tural history.54 Traditional views that design is manifest in everyday life, an emphasis
on tacit and generational teaching, and recognition of nineteenth-century colonial art
school inluences have all affected present educational philosophies. While retaining a
Western model of higher education post-independence, schools such as the National
Institute of Design in Ahmedabad teach students design principles drawn from this
history: utility, self-expression and concern for the physical environment and relevance
to human need. Professionalism is measured in work and conduct, and responsibility
lies with society before one’s self-interest or proit. Balaram’s article emphasizes design
education as a nexus of speciic factors that support communities whilst extending to
international networks. What emerges from possible interactions across global educa-
tors is not just the realization that we share many concerns, but appreciation of the rich
multiplicity of ideas and pedagogical approaches and experiments.55
Annabella Pollen’s writing in Design & Culture directly addresses the critical perspec-
tive, subjectivity and engaged learning that occurs in historical and contextual studies.
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Based on student feedback at the University of Brighton, Pollen concludes, ‘design
students can experience historical and cultural studies as a fertile space for establish-
ing their own subject positions as producers, consumers and interpreters of designed
objects in a material world’.57 Many colleges, including those within the University of
the Arts London, are looking to expand writing in the design curriculum through stu-
dent blogging and greater lexibility across contextual studies remits to resemble studio
briefs.58 Teaching & Learning events hosted by the DHS have addressed research prac-
tice communication, including writing and podcasting workshops; the 2009 Annual
DHS Conference, ‘Writing Design: Object, Process, Discourse’, looked at disciplinary
contributions that could inform pedagogy in this area.
As the level of degree study in design increases, with several colleges now offering PhDs
by practice and doctoral qualiications in design, the role of research and writing as design
methods will continue to increase.59 During the incubation years at design school, how-
ever, the role of government, industry, and external forces will affect pedagogical mod-
els. Where possible, this low should balance ethics and methods in both process and
outcome stages, with the designer acting as an invested agent as well as the user of
Histories are never ixed, nor can design be. Attitudes, contexts and perspectives
change. Design history, while interdisciplinary in its present practice, has clear roots
in art history, roots that some design historians felt were restrictive. In the October
1978 issue of the Bulletin of the Association of Art Historians, John A. Walker accused
the annual conference sessions of being unrelective, without consideration of meth-
ods, and devoid of theories of practice or pedagogy. The art historical discipline was
‘static’.62 In 1976, Bridget Wilkins wrote about polytechnics’ demand for design his-
tory over universities; it was in this pedagogical environment that design historians
could ‘develop a method to integrate other disciplines and pass this on to students,
to integrate into their work’.63 It was the Association of Art Historians (AAH) that
incubated early meetings of the Design History Research Group, a sub-committee
of its members that assembled to discuss design history, ‘an academic area of great
importance in institutions where students of design often outnumber ine art stu-
dents’.64 Interests of this group included stimulating the growth of design history as
a discipline, identifying these challenges, and coming out from beneath the wing of
art history. Past Bulletins of the AAH published heated debates regarding the merits
and challenges of this emergence. While the discipline was then ill-deined, with-
out an organ for publication, lacking a recognized training or research centre, and
yet to establish undergraduate degree programmes, there were clear reasons to gain
stronger intellectual ground.65
Sparke’s third edition of Introduction to Design and Culture observes the shift in design
history from theoretical and material work on class, taste and consumption in the
1980s to the creation and relection of meaning in everyday life and a recent focus
on global, technological, social and cultural shifts. Jonathan Woodham mentions
As the list of interests, methods and disciplinary afiliations grows, some scholars are
calling for clearer nomenclature to make sense of these quicksilver interdisciplinary
vanguards. Victor Margolin and Stuart Kendall, for example, prefer Design Studies, to
expand the ield and reconcile academia with the public.70 Growth of a design history
preoccupied with context and ideas over forms and styles also means a different peda-
gogical structure and approach. As discussed in the previous theme, this pedagogical
framework is a way to engage design students. But what does it look like? How do
design historians construct and think about their curriculum? What can design histori-
ans do to help form pedagogical programs and future educational models and policy?
In 2009, Hazel Clark and David Brody edited a special issue of JDH to collect revised
papers from a 2008 Design Studies Forum meeting at the College Art Association in
Dallas, Texas. Their introduction, ‘The Current State of Design History’, was named
after that panel and also pays homage to Clive Dilnot’s ‘The State of Design History’,
published decades earlier in Design Issues.71 Clark and Brody assess design history at
the vanguard of interconnectivity, not only across colleagues and geographic borders,
but also particularly in an interdisciplinary sense: ‘Networks of scholars working col-
laboratively, as well as independently as individuals, are drawing on diverse methodolo-
gies as design history engages with and builds upon the approaches of other scholarly
ields’. Essays from Lisa Banu, Teal Triggs, Sarah Lichtman and Grace Lees-Maffei con-
sider what it means ‘to use the framework of history to explicate design; discuss meth-
odologies; demonstrate interdisciplinary scholarships; consider the margins, without
marginalization; and to help us not only to address the current state of design history
but also to move it forward’.72
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A recurring argument in the articles in this issue is the need for design history to turn
its attention to histories of design pedagogy. As the discipline develops its methodo-
logical palette, including anthropological methods such as oral history and visual eth-
nography—there is potential to expand experiences, processes and socio-historical
contexts that inluence designers and educators.73 Victoria Newhouse’s collaboration
with Margot Wittkower is a case in point.74 Wittkower trained at the new Bauhaus
at Weimar along with international students, including few women. Five years after
graduating, she began practising as an interior designer, in Berlin from 1928 to 1933,
and then in London until 1939. Newhouse’s article relects its publication date in
method, proiling the igure of the designer to ascertain her socio-historical context,
but it is part of an important area of design history that provides perspectives of
practising designers who were also women.75 Sue Clegg and Wendy Mayield’s asser-
tion inds traction here: ‘as educators, we can, do, and should challenge dominant
disciplinary discourses which naturalise the gendering of technologies’.76 Failure to
do so leads to distortion and exclusion. Newhouse makes ample use of Wittkower’s
perspective to inform the article, including recollections, translated letters and col-
laborative input on draft work. Details on the atmosphere of the workshop, day
Design history should be a relexive practice, which does scholarship credit; those
engaged in its work develop new approaches and articulations to advance investi-
gations into design and design practice. In ‘Architectural and Spatial Design Studies:
Inscribing Architecture in Design Studies’, Jilly Traganou suggests an inclusive discipli-
nary metamorphosis. This involves ‘reorganization of the ield of spatio-architectural
studies and the creation of a new scholarly public realm that bridges between existing
disciplines and ields, rather than delineating a new disciplinary space’.77 Extensions
of the spatial range from interior space to geographic regions and critical analysis of
representations and narratives, as well as policies, are part of this epistemological shift.
The possibilities are inclusive and inquisitive, and Traganou carefully explains the ethos
of the reorganization she endorses as bridge-like spanning interstitial gaps, rather than
a restructuring. She advocates for architecture’s ‘relationship with broader socio-cul-
tural and political contexts’ with open versions, narratives and authorships instead of
lineages, heroicisms and the study of Architecture as a static, built history. Furthermore,
the co-ordination of architecture and spatial design studies would place new methodo-
logical and pedagogical tools at the disposal of practitioners and students alike, which
promises to dispel miscommunication and foster new ideas, colloquia and collabora-
tion. Studying non-canonical or non-paradigmatic architectural themes will yield critical
perspectives that further the ethics and remits of practice and policies that affect the
lives of those connected, as we all are, to spatial environments, thus framing the archi-
tect as citizen, intellectual and design professional.78
The inal article in this issue sums up its main themes. Strategies and philosophies
applied to teaching and learning in design and its history rest ‘on differing episte-
mological, pedagogical and historiographical assumptions’. Sarah Lichtman points
out, via the introductory design history survey class at Parsons, ‘History of Design,
1850–2000’, that there is little consensus on the deinition of design, the content of
While it is my hope that readers, with their own design backgrounds and subjec-
tivities, will ind many interpretations via this Urmodell, there are a number worth
elucidating here to demonstrate possible encounters with this arrangement of work.
For example, design education, historically, lies at the core of several ambitious ini-
tiatives meant to bolster national industries by improving the quality of product and
design output. What narratives exist outside a dominant historical perspective of
industry, and who else was involved in production outside these frameworks? Both
Nenadic and Bittker are assigned to the irst theme in this issue, but they offer com-
pelling and contrasting approaches to similar questions surrounding the importance,
Maya Oppenheimer
19
inluence or interference of industry in design education and regional histories and
voices. How do we document and communicate these voices? Another question
arises between Sarah Lichtman’s essay and Jilly Traganou’s argumentation: how do
we effectively facilitate and communicate the importance of critical research and
socio-historical context in design practice? What role can design history research
continue to play in the articulation of such diverse approaches to design pedagogy,
and will this direct a more ethical practice of consumption sprung from informed
awareness?
Shifts in pedagogy are inevitable. Indeed, they should change and present divergences.
The Urmodell accommodates and requires this adaptation and variation. John Steers
claims, ‘we need to cherish multiple visions of teaching and learning about, for and
through’ art and design, and thus to perceive, accept and respect a diversity of cultures
and their knowledge, ideas and acts. We must avoid ‘insidious international pedagogy
and recognize that alternative approaches to curriculum and assessment are increas-
ingly being erased by the dominant ideologies of some governments and inluential,
wealthy organizations’.81 This chimes with Vignelli’s educational sabre rattling and his
I began this essay with the words of a favoured graphic designer, and I will end it
with another. Before doing so, I should clarify that I do not enjoy TED Talks. I discuss
their peculiar niche with my design students and suggest they are best incorporated
into research with a critical, even cynical lens. Paula Scher’s 2008 talk, I confess,
is an exception. In twenty-two minutes, she discusses her career, various projects
(informed by design history) and a mantra she lives and works by. It is an invaluable
pedagogical guide: design, Scher suggests, should be ‘serious, not solemn’. ‘Being
solemn is easy. Being serious is hard.’82 Her examples explain that seriousness is
complex, creative, experiential, spontaneous, accidental, imperfect and rare. ‘It’s
achieved through all those kind of crazy parts of human behavior that don’t really
make any sense.’ In the application of design, this alchemy must involve history and
asking critical questions; it must involve considerations as to why and who and how;
it must involve an idea that seriously engages its author and its audience. This is the
goal of design pedagogy.
Maya Oppenheimer
London, UK
E-mail: oppenheimer.maya@gmail.com
Maya Oppenheimer is a design writer, educator and researcher based in London and
holds a PhD in Humanities and Cultural Studies from the London Consortium. Her
work currently explores object-centred transactions across art, science and design,
particularly those involving dramaturgical laboratory instruments and deception.
Her teaching relects this interest: she is a Visiting Tutor in the Critical & Historical
Studies Department at the Royal College of Art and has taught critical theory and
cultural studies at London College of Communication, Imperial College London and
the CASS School of Design. Maya is also an Executive Trustee of the Design History
Society and has published work on experiment design, theory–practice in design
pedagogy and methodologies of re-enactment in multidisciplinary forums.
Acknowledgements: I would like to thank my teaching and Design History Society colleagues with
whom I have had several enduring conversations about pedagogy and the state of design education
today. Thank you also to the four anonymous reviewers and their valuable feedback that helped
shape this issue, and to Grace Lees-Maffei as managing editor during the process. I especially hold
much appreciation and gratitude for Dipti Bhagat for her support and conidence in me undertaking
this project and for her continued passion for teaching and learning.
Maya Oppenheimer
21
21 Alain Findeli, ‘Rethinking Design Education for the international, market-driven need for improved training via
21st Century: Theoretical, Methodological, and Ethical drawing.
Discussion’, Design Issues 17, no. 1 (Winter 2001): 8. 33 Daniela N. Prina, ‘Design in Belgium before Art Nouveau:
22 Ibid., pp. 15, 9. Art, Industry and the Reform of Artistic Education in the
Second Half of the Nineteenth Century’, Journal of Design
23 In making this statement, of histories over history, I pay
History 23, no. 4 (2010): 329–350.
homage to past editors who have taken up this discussion.
See Mervyn Romans, ‘Introduction: Rethinking Art and 34 Ibid., p. 333.
Design Education Histories’, in Romans, Histories of Art 35 Alain Findeli, ‘Design Education and Industry: the Laborious
and Design Education, pp. 11–18. Beginnings of the Institute of Design in Chicago in 1944’,
24 See Houze and Lees-Maffei, op. cit., and Penny Sparke, Journal of Design History 4, no. 2 (1991). 97.
‘Introduction: Twentieth-century Design and Culture 36 Findeli explains that the ‘availability of unsalaried teachers
Revisited’, in Introduction to Design & Culture: 1900 to the and the spirit of initiative of students avid for initiation into
Present, 3rd edn (London: Routledge, 2013), 1–9. modern art, architecture and design constituted the princi-
25 Mary S. Morgan and Margaret Morrison, ‘Models ple resources’ of this arrangement over the separation into
as Mediating Instruments’, in Models as Mediators: speciic curriculum based on specialized design disciplines.
Perspectives on Natural and Social Science, eds Mary Ibid., p. 100.
49 Melissa Niederhelman, ‘Education through Design’, Design 60 Walker, op. cit., 10.
Issues 17, no. 3 (Summer 2001): 83–87. 61 Walker, op. cit.; Woodham, op. cit.; Fallan, op. cit.; Houze
50 Mulberg, op. cit., 304. and Lees-Maffei, op. cit.; D. J. Huppatz and Grace Lees-
Maffei. ‘Why Design History? A Multi-national Perspective
51 Jane Pavitt, ‘[Archives and Collections] The Camberwell on the State and Purpose of the Field’, Arts and Humanities
Collection of Applied Arts, Camberwell College of Arts, in Higher Education 12, nos 2–3 (April–July 2013): 310–
The London Institute’, Journal of Design History 10, no. 2 330; Tony Fry, Clive Dilnot and Susan C. Stewart, Design
(1997): 225. and the Question of History, London: Bloomsbury, 2015.
52 Ibid., p. 225. 62 John A. Walker, ‘Correspondence’, Bulletin of the
53 Yagou, ‘First Steps’, p. 145. Association of Art Historians (7 October 1978): 3.
Maya Oppenheimer
23
63 Bridget Wilkins, ‘Teaching Design History’, Bulletin of the The essays are Lisa S. Banu, ‘Deining the Design Deicit in
Association of Art Historians (2 February 1976): 7. Bangladesh’, Journal of Design History 22, no. 4 (2009):
64 Philip Barlow, ‘Art & Design History Courses in Polytechnics’, 309–323; Teal Triggs, ‘Designing Graphic Design History’,
Journal of Design History 22, no. 4 (2009): 325–340;
Bulletin of the Association of Art Historians (1 November
Lichtman, op. cit., 341–350; Grace Lees-Maffei, ‘The
1975): 2.
Production–Consumption–Mediation Paradigm’, Journal
65 Philip Barlow, ‘Group for Art History in Art Education’, of Design History 22, no. 4 (2009): 351–376.
Bulletin of the Association of Art Historians (1 November
73 Linda Sandino, ‘Introduction Oral Histories and Design:
1975): 3. See also Jonathan M. Woodham, ‘Designing
Objects and Subjects’, Journal of Design History 19, no. 4
Design History: From Pevsner to Postmodernism’ (paper
(2006): 276.
presented at the Digitisation and Knowledge Conference,
Auckland University, February 2001), and Fallan, op. cit. 74 Victoria Newhouse, ‘Margot Wittkower: Design Education
and Practice, Berlin–London, 1919–1939’, Journal of
66 Johanna Drucker argues waxing attention for design his-
Design History 3, nos 2–3 (1990): 83–101.
tory by analysing Philip Meggs and Richard Hollis’ well-
known histories of graphic design. She suggests the 75 In addition to de Bretteville, op. cit., see Cheryl Buckley,
changing material qualities of these books relect the sta- ‘Made in Patriarchy: Toward a Feminist Analysis of Women
tus of these works both pedagogically and in publishing. and Design’, Design Issues 3, no. 2 (1986): 3–14; Judy
Attield, ‘FORM/female FOLLOWS FUNCTION/male: