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Souped Up Tea Urn & Tea Pot (Dartford 2004) is an installation by the British artists Jeremy Deller and Allan Kane comprising various pieces of tea-making equipment arranged on a table. Viewers can be invited to use the objects when the work is on display, but Kane has stated that the work can also be shown without this interactive element (Allan Kane, email to Tate Curator Rachel Taylor, 6 December 2004, Tate Acquisition File, Jeremy Deller and Allan Kane 2002–, PC 10.1). The items on the table include a large urn and a teapot, both painted with a stylised flame pattern featuring dark red, gold and orange tones. The urn is designed to boil water and features a temperature gauge. Both the teapot and the urn have smooth, shiny surfaces, and they show indications of use, including stains and residue around the teapot’s interior and spout. The installation also features twelve assorted and used-looking mugs, which are presented on a pale brown, rectangular wooden tray with a low rim. The table has metal fold-out legs and a shiny, greyish upper surface.

http://www.grizedale.org/contributors/deller.and.kane/jeremy.deller, accessed 1 September 2015).

The phrase ‘souped up’ generally refers to modified cars with increased engine power. Here it emphasises Dillon’s use of car body painting techniques to adapt the appearance of the urn and teapot, yet it could also refer to the idea of these objects being used to heat up soup. The work’s punning title therefore seems to emphasise its odd conflation of catering implements with car culture. As the art historian Hal Foster has noted, such incongruous combinations of signifiers are common in Deller’s practice (Hal Foster, ‘History is a Hen Harrier’, in English Magic, exhibition catalogue, British Pavilion, 55th Venice Biennale, Venice 2013, p.11). This can also be discerned in the juxtaposition of British tea-drinking culture with a painted design which, according to a text produced by Grizedale Arts, ‘directly emulated a style of American West Coast iconography which was itself influenced largely by Latino culture’ (Griffin and Sutherland 2009, p.167).

The work’s references to vernacular culture are characteristic of Deller and Kanes’ practices. For example, from 2000 to 2007 they collaborated on Folk Archive, which saw them collecting and documenting works of contemporary British folk art. Discussing Deller’s interest in ‘the vernacular’, the cultural theorist Stuart Hall has associated him with the principle that ‘people who are sometimes considered to be unimportant, or not worth listening to, matter. They are creative but often have their creativity denied or taken away from them. He believes they should be valued for what they are ... and that one way of doing that is to re-deploy them as sources of new artistic work’ (Stuart Hall, ‘Jeremy Deller’s Political Imaginary’, in Hayward Gallery 2012, pp.88–9).

Further reading
Jeremy Deller and Alan Kane, Folk Archive: Contemporary Popular Art from the UK, London 2005.
Jonathan Griffin and Adam Sutherland, Grizedale Arts: Adding Complexity to Confusion, Coniston 2009, p.167.
Jeremy Deller: Joy in People, exhibition catalogue, Hayward Gallery, London 2012.

David Hodge
September 2015

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‘Souped Up Tea Urn & Teapot (Dartford 2004)’, Jeremy Deller, Alan Kane, 2004 | Tate

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‘Souped Up Tea Urn & Teapot (Dartford 2004)’, Jeremy Deller, Alan Kane, 2004

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https://www.tate.org.uk/art/images/work/TGA/TGA-9222/TGA-9222-3-2-18-1_9.jpg

Eileen Agar

Ceramic handle less cup decorated with a geometric pattern in black on a pale brown background

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‘Photograph of a breakfast table with cups, teapots, plates and cutlery’, Eileen Agar – Tate Archive | Tate

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{meta_desc} – part of the digitised collection of the Tate Archive

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Ceramic Cup c.1929 shows an arrangement of ceramic crockery laid out on a table, photographed from above. The ceramic cup and saucer are the focus of the photograph and two other plates on the table are cropped by the composition. This technique of cropping or photographing objects from a distinctive angle is characteristic of ‘New Objectivity’ photography of the 1920s. It was only in the later part of her career that Biermann found stimulation in inanimate objects and when talking about her interest in representing this subject matter she explained: ‘the particularity and uniqueness of each form opened up endless possibilities. The clarity of a constructed form, taken out of its distracting surroundings, seemed to have the potential for compelling representation in photography’ (quoted in Eskildsen 1988, p.94). This is a vintage print made by the artist around the time she produced the image.

Biermann was one of the major proponents of the ‘New Objectivity’ photography movement that developed in Germany in the 1920s, a movement that embraced the mechanical ability of the camera to capture the real world in a clear, objective manner. She was influenced by artists working at the time, including Albert Renger-Patsch and August Sander, and by the end of the 1920s was exhibiting her work alongside them. During her seven-year career, which was cut short by her early death in 1933, Biermann produced a large portfolio of work, ranging from portraits (see, for example, Untitled (Self-Portrait) c.1931, Tate P80258) and photographs of plants and flowers (see, for example, Amaryllis 1928, Tate P80260) to images of inanimate objects such as Ceramic Cup.

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Ceramic Cup c.1929 shows an arrangement of ceramic crockery laid out on a table, photographed from above. The ceramic cup and saucer are the focus of the photograph and two other plates on the table are cropped by the composition. This technique of cropping or photographing objects from a distinctive angle is characteristic of 'New Objectivity' photography of the 1920s. It was only in the later part of her career that Biermann found stimulation in inanimate objects and when talking about her interest in representing this subject matter she explained: 'the particularity and uniqueness of each form opened up endless possibilities. The clarity of a constructed form, taken out of its distracting surroundings, seemed to have the potential for compelling representation in photography' (quoted in Eskildsen 1988, p.94). This is a vintage print made by the artist around the time she produced the image.

Biermann was one of the major proponents of the 'New Objectivity' photography movement that developed in Germany in the 1920s, a movement that embraced the mechanical ability of the camera to capture the real world in a clear, objective manner. She was influenced by artists working at the time, including Albert Renger-Patsch and August Sander, and by the end of the 1920s was exhibiting her work alongside them. During her seven-year career, which was cut short by her early death in 1933, Biermann produced a large portfolio of work, ranging from portraits (see, for example, Untitled (Self-Portrait) c.1931, Tate ) and photographs of plants and flowers (see, for example, Amaryllis 1928, Tate ) to images of inanimate objects such as Ceramic Cup.

Biermann started out photographing her young children in the early 1920s and by 1926 her interest had developed into a considered photographic practice. In 1928 she met the geologist Rudolf Hundt who subsequently asked her to work on several commissions photographing rocks and minerals. According to Biermann it was these early commissions that marked the beginning of her serious photographic work (Eskildsen 1988, p.11). Biermann gained public recognition in late 1928 when the German art historian and photographer Franz Roh published an article referring to her plant photographs. Following this, her work was shown in many of the major international photographic exhibitions of the late 1920s and early 1930s, such as the Fotografie der Gegenwart ( Contemporary Photography Exhibition) at the Folkwang Museum, Essen, in 1929. In these exhibitions Biermann was shown alongside other female photographers who worked in Germany at the same time, such as Lucia Moholy.

Further reading
Ute Eskildsen, Aenne Biermann: Photographs 1925-33, London 1988.

Shoair Mavlian
August 2011
Does this text contain inaccurate information or language that you feel we should improve or change? We would like to hear from you.

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'Ceramic Cup', Aenne Biermann, c.1929 | Tate

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Artwork page for 'Ceramic Cup', Aenne Biermann, c.1929 on display at Tate Modern. Keramiktasse shows an arrangement of ceramic crockery laid out on a table, photographed from above. The ceramic cup and saucer are the focus of the photograph and two other plates on the table are cropped by the composition.

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David LeachStandard Ware Mead Jug1945–55

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https://www.tate.org.uk/art/images/work/T/T12/T12065_10.jpg

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https://www.interaction-design.org/literature/topics/affordances

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Vital materialism is a branch of posthuman philosophy contending that all matter, including non-human objects, has a liveliness no matter how inanimate such objects appear. One proponent of this radical, materialist school of thought is Jane Bennett – author of Vibrant Matter (2010) – who, instead of asking what something is, asks what it can do. This is to say that objects have the capacity to produce effects within the network of relationships they are involved with.

Think of the relationships people have with their favourite pair of shoes or perhaps the loving effects produced by the giving of a present to a significant other. In a similar sense, 21-year-old Hanne Zaruma creates a new life of vitality for technologies the world had all but forgotten, by utilising them in her practice. Commanding we see the magic in these everyday things, Zaruma discusses with METAL her creative expression alongside her potential career pathways.

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https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Findepest.com%2F2021%2F10%2F07%2Fhanne-just-like-that%2F&psig=AOvVaw1G9mH8Xu1DXp8yhnu9tqSF&ust=1643682834644000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAsQjRxqFwoTCIj4j_X52vUCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD

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'2 Standard Ware Mead Cups', David Leach, 1945-55 | Tate

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Artwork page for '2 Standard Ware Mead Cups', David Leach, 1945-55

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A Brief History of the Disposable Coffee Cup From its origins in the Spanish Flu era to the high-tech, highly engineered products of today, it's a history of the disposable coffee cup  MAY 30, 2014BY MICHAEL Y. PARK 

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A Brief History of the Disposable Coffee Cup From its origins in the Spanish Flu era to the high-tech, highly engineered products of today, it's a history of the disposable coffee cup  MAY 30, 2014BY MICHAEL Y. PARK 

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https://www.bonappetit.com/entertaining-style/trends-news/article/disposable-coffee-cup-history

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From its origins in the Spanish Flu era to the high-tech, highly engineered products of today, it's a history of the disposable coffee cup

It's what you walk away with after the first financial transaction you make every day. It's the bane of clumsy interns in offices from Seattle to Key West. And it's left its mark on your car dashboard, your favorite pair of work pants, your waistline-and American culture.

Yet you've probably never given a second thought to that lowly vehicle of caffeine consumption, the disposable coffee cup.

"A lot of people would be surprised to learn how many choices went into that cup of coffee they're buying," says Matt Fury, director of coffee at Think Coffee.

If you're really going to trace the history of coffee drinking, you have to begin with the history of water drinking. And if you're going to follow the history of disposable coffee cups, you have to begin with the history of disposable water cups.

That story begins at the beginning of the 20th century with a man named Lawrence Luellen, a Boston lawyer and inventor. Since the end of the Civil War, plain old drinking water had become increasingly popular, thanks to the growth of the temperance movement. Temperance activists had dotted cities with water fountains and traveled from bar to bar in temperance wagons, offering water as a healthy alternative to beer or liquor (and giving rise to the term "on the wagon" for reformed alcoholics). Whether people drank water from a fountain, barrel, well, or wagon, they passed around a cup of metal, wood, or ceramic.

"The communal cup was literally a bucket of water that people would dip out of," says Susan Strasser, author Waste and Want: A Social History of Trash. "If you don't know about germs, then that's an OK solution."

Separately, however, more and more Americans were learning about the germ theory of disease. Luellen, who was one of those people, was distressed by the now-obvious health hazards posed by a communal cup. In 1907, he invented a paper cup-almost more of a paper bag at that point-that didn't have to be shared, and that could be thrown away after use. He called it the Health Kup, but changed the name five years later to that of a popular line of toys, Dixie Dolls.

By the time the U.S. had entered World War I another five years after that, disposable culture already had a clawhold on American culture.

"Before that, everything was used and reused," Strasser says. "People used broken crockery all the time. Even for very upper-middle-class women, when you cleaned the table, you saved the food on the plates. People shared all kinds of ideas for how to repair glass. Clothing was used and reused."

Then, in 1918, the Spanish flu swept in. The epidemic killed anywhere from 50 million to 100 million people around the world, or about one of out every 20 people on Earth. In the U.S., nearly one in three people was infected, and over half a million died. Suddenly, a healthy fear of germs wasn't just for hypochondriacs anymore. Disposable cups were here to stay.

Obviously, though, we don't drink coffee out of Dixie cups today. The 1930s saw a flurry of new handled cups-evidence that people were already using paper cups for hot beverages. In 1933, Ohioan Sydney R. Koons filed a patent application for a handle to attach to paper cups. In 1936, Walter W. Cecil invented a paper cup that came with handles, obviously meant to mimic mugs. By the 1950s, there was no question that disposable coffee cups were on people's minds, as inventors began filing patents for lids meant specifically for coffee cups.

But the Golden Age of the disposable coffee cup seems to have been the '60s, when four major things happened: the foam cup, the Anthora cup, the tearable lid, and 7-Eleven.

Michigander William F. Dart and his son William A. Dart had been experimenting with an expanded polystyrene, a substance that companies had been struggling to find a practical commercial use for ever since it was developed in 1954. The Darts started trying to assemble a machine that could manufacture expanded-polystyrene foam cups in 1957.

"It was a very experimental material," says Chrissy Rapanos, senior market research analyst at what's now known as Dart Container Corporation, which makes 70 percent of the world's foam cups. "People were trying to use it as insulation for baby bottles, as shampoo bottles, even flower pots."

In 1960, the Darts shipped their first batch of styrene cups to a paper-distributing company in Jackson, Mississippi. For the next two decades, foam cups increasingly became the choice for coffee.

Coffee cups were also starting to get attention for their aesthetics. In 1963, a Czech immigrant named Leslie Buck designed the iconic Anthora cup for Sherri Cup of Connecticut. The instantly recognizable design-blue and white with bronze lettering, with an ancient Greek theme (Buck named it "Anthora" because he mispronounced the word "amphora") and the words "We Are Happy to Serve You"-became a constant of everyday life in New York City, with a 1995 New York Times story declaring it " the most successful cup in history."

(It's also extinct: Sherri Cup was later bought by Solo Cup, which was in turn recently bought by Dart. The original Sherri machines used to make the Anthora cup were thrown out. Though the Anthora design can be special-ordered, it is now printed on slimmer, taller Solo cups, rather than the squatter cups New Yorkers remember, according to Melissa Dye, product manager of the Solo division of Dart.)

And in 1964 on Long Island, N.Y., convenience chain 7-Eleven became the first chain to offer fresh coffee in to-go cups. The company quickly expanded to-go coffee to the rest of its Northeast chains, and then nationwide.

Toward the tail end of the decade, coffee lids began to come into their own, too. In 1967, Philadelphian Alan Frank filed a patent for a tearable coffee lid, finally acknowledging that Americans were drinking their coffee as they walked.

"We've always been a nation on the go, on the run, in a hurry, and since the Boston Tea Party, we have been fueled primarily by coffee in that rush to wherever we're going," says Mark Pendergrast, author of Uncommon Grounds: The History of Coffee and How It Changed Our World. "So it's really quite natural that we would want coffee to go."

Throughout the '70s, as styrene cups invaded our desks and car cup holders, disposable-coffee-cup innovation seemed to hit a relative lull, with the most exciting developments taking place with lids-most importantly when it came to to-go drinking. In 1975, for example, the pull-back tab was invented, building upon Frank's tear-away lid.

The '80s, however, saw a second renaissance of disposable coffee cups, despite the fact that Americans were actually starting to buy less regular coffee. Instead, they were drinking cappuccinos, lattes, cafe mochas-specialty coffees that often included a frothy crown. To maintain that signature topping, to-go cups now had to come with domed lids that not only kept drinks hot, but also left headroom for the foam. Inventors responded appropriately: In the '70s, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office had received nine patents for coffee-cup lids. The next decade, 26 came pouring in.

"Even something like the humble coffee lid-everything is designed to an incredible degree," says Louise Harpman, a New York City architect who, along with business partner Scott Specht, owns the largest collection of coffee-cup lids in the world.

For many fans of practical design, the apotheosis of the coffee-cup lid came about in 1984, when Solo filed the patent for the Traveler lid, which combined a sleek, functional look with a lid domed enough to accommodate specialty drinks, a protruding rim that helped cool coffee before it reached the drinker's mouth, and even a depression in the middle so the drinker wouldn't have to smush his nose against plastic every time he took a sip. (In 2005, the Museum of Modern Art added the Solo Traveler lid to its permanent collection.)

Meanwhile, as the coffee-cup lid was having its decade in the sun, the styrene foam cup was going through dark times. The environmental movement was no longer a niche philosophy, and mainstream Americans were finally absorbing the concept of conscientious consumerism. Styrene cups began a decline, and paper coffee cups staged a comeback.

But the pivotal moment in the war between foam and paper came about in 1987 and can be summed up in a single word: Starbucks.

That year, the new owner of Starbucks, Howard Schultz, had to choose what sort of disposable to-go cups his stores would carry as they underwent massive planned expansion throughout the U.S. Just like other purveyors of drinks like cappuccino, he knew he needed lids that could hold but wouldn't crush the foam atop the company's frothy drinks-those domed lids that were suddenly popping up in cafés everywhere. Solo made just the kind of domed lids he needed-but they only fit on Solo paper cups. So Starbucks went with paper-and the styrene foam cup has never recovered.

How Cosmo Kramer Changed Your Morning

In the '90s, safety became the predominant theme. As paper cups became standard again, the downsides of the material became apparent as well-styrene was a much better insulator. Consumers began double-cupping their hot coffee, which was not only environmentally wasteful but cost stores twice as much on cups as they expected.

In 1991, Portland, Oregon, dad Jay Sorenson had an epiphany about making paper cups safer when he spilled hot coffee on himself while dropping his daughter off at school. So he invented the Java Jacket, an insulated cardboard sleeve that slides over a paper coffee cup. Paper-cup manufacturers, meanwhile, developed double- and triple-walled cups that improved insulation.

In 1994, the infamous hot-coffee lawsuit, Liebeck v. McDonald's, was decided by a jury. Albuquerque grandmother Stella Liebeck was in a parked car, trying to add cream and sugar to a coffee she'd just bought from a McDonald's drive-through, when the styrene foam cup spilled the hot liquid on her, giving her third-degree burns and sending her to the hospital for eight days of skin grafts. The jury awarded Liebeck $2.86 million. America, and American coffee stores, took notice. So did comedians: A year later, a lampoon of the case was immortalized as an example of a frivolous lawsuit on Seinfeld.

"It's a shame this woman was so ridiculed, but maybe in the end some good came of it, and some cups are more safe," says Susan Saladoff, an Oregon attorney and filmmaker who produced the documentary Hot Coffee about the incident and subsequent legal case.

The Coffee Cup of Tomorrow

In recent years, the two themes that seem to have emerged in coffee-cup design are conscientious and experiential.

Florida inventor Tim Sprunger falls firmly into the latter category. He's invented the Arom-Ahh!, a coffee lid that takes advantage of that insight from the designer of the Solo Traveler in 1983-i.e., people have noses. He inserted a compartment into disposable-cup lids to enhance both the smell and taste of hot coffee, making beverages smell like nuts, fruit, even cheese-or sometimes just more like coffee.

"I can make Starbucks coffee taste better than they can," Sprunger says.

On the other hand, Fury of Think Coffee has emphasized compostability in his disposable coffee cups, with his stores using cups from U.K. firm Vegware, while encouraging people to bring in reusable cups.

"The future will be semi-reusable," Fury says.

The rise of reusable to-go cups, like Australia's KeepCup, would bring the story of disposable cups back to the pre-Dixie-cup days in a nice, neat circle, but don't count on it. Disposable coffee cups are here for good, says food historian Cory Bernat, who co-curated the Smithsonian National Museum of American History's American Food & Wine History exhibits.

"When I look at food culture, it's all about habit, and businesses have a lot more influence over our behaviors than we like to admit," she says. "I see companies that are very quick to reassure people it's OK to ask for convenience, and people who are very quick to accept that offer. People just want this thing out of their hands in the easiest way possible."

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A Brief History of the Disposable Coffee Cup

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From its origins in the Spanish Flu era to the high-tech, highly engineered products of today, it's a history of the disposable coffee cup

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The Concept of Affordance | Design Thinking | agile-od.com

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Affordances are clues about how an object should be used. For example, even if you've never seen a coffee mug before, its use is fairly natural.

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MoMA, Floor 5, 517

The Alfred H. Barr, Jr. Galleries

Oppenheim’s fur-lined teacup is perhaps the single most notorious Surrealist object. Its subtle perversity was inspired by a conversation between Oppenheim, Pablo Picasso, and the photographer Dora Maar at a Paris café. Admiring Oppenheim’s fur-trimmed bracelets, Picasso remarked that one could cover just about anything with fur. “Even this cup and saucer,” Oppenheim replied.
In the 1930s, many Surrealist artists were arranging found objects in bizarre combinations that challenged reason and summoned unconscious and poetic associations. Object —titled Le Déjeuner en fourrure (Lunch in fur) by the Surrealist leader André Breton—is a cup-and-saucer set that was purchased at a Paris department store and lined with the pelt of a Chinese gazelle. The work highlights the specificities of sensual pleasure: fur may delight the touch, but it repels the tongue. And a cup and spoon, of course, are made to be put in the mouth.
Following his inclusion of the work in MoMA’s 1936–37 exhibition Fantastic Art, Dada, Surrealism, Alfred H. Barr, Jr., the Museum’s director, remarked, “Few works of art in recent years have so captured the popular imagination.... The ‘fur-lined tea set’ makes concretely real the most extreme, the most bizarre improbability. The tension and excitement caused by this object in the minds of tens of thousands of Americans have been expressed in rage, laughter, disgust or delight.”

Publication excerpt from MoMA Highlights: 375 Works from The Museum
of Modern Art, New York (New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 2019)

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Every design endeavor, whether a one-off banner ad or a multichannel marketing campaign, is bound by factors that limit creative decision-making. These binding factors are called design constraints. Though they might seem to undermine originality, constraints are keys to unlocking long-term design solutions.

Constraints are design limitations. An obvious example is budget. Money affords manpower, tools, and to some extent, time. Other factors, like governing bodies and public opinion, are harder to buy. And of course, no design solution supersedes the laws of nature.

Viewed unfavorably, constraints are a form of deprivation. They are unavailable options and mandates that exclude "better" alternatives. The connotation is wholly negative. Constraints stifle creativity.

Viewed differently, constraints are ingenuity enhancers. Because resources aren't inexhaustible and design criteria must be met, constraints force a more methodical analysis of people and their problems. They push designers to be strategic about the processes they use and energies they expend.

Design Constraints Aren't Restraints

In artistic undertakings, constraints solve the blank canvas problem. An infinite universe of options overwhelms the first stroke. Constraints embolden the brush by intentionally forsaking creative choices (like color or subject matter). Decision-making is swift and simple as seemingly one-dimensional actions accumulate greater levels of sophistication.

The same power is available to designers, but the client/designer dynamic adds a psychological stigma that's less common in the art world. In the designer's mind, client-requested constraints undergo a strange metamorphosis. They become restraints, locked gates preventing access to ideal design outcomes.

It's an unproductive outlook, one that leads designers to make faulty assumptions clients don't intend. While pining for creative freedom, obvious opportunities are missed.

Design briefs with specifications and constraints aren't closed doors. They're signposts from which designers may boldly embark on problem-solving investigations.

What types of design constraints should designers be aware of? More importantly, why do these constraints exist and how are they leveraged for design innovation?

9 Constraints Every Designer Should Know

There are endless ways to impose limits on design. For clarity, it's helpful to identify design brief specifications and constraints, and their examples, by using categories. Some are well-known, others unexpected.

1. Commercial Constraints

Commercial constraints are linked to business resources like time, budget, and manpower. In design projects, commercial constraints are weighed against each other. When clients compose briefs, commercial constraints are prominently featured. "We need X deliverable, in Y amount of time, for Z cost."

Commercial constraints aren't immutable laws. Asking clients why they exist might lead to more time or budget, or it may reveal a need for design deliverables that clients hadn't considered.

2. Compliance Constraints

Depending on the project, there may be laws, standards, or regulations that designers must adhere to:

Packaging and label requirements

Data privacy rules

Accessibility mandates for digital and physical environments

The list is ever lengthening.

When designers encounter new or unfamiliar compliance constraints, it's tempting to turn to online research to avoid "losing face" with clients. Independent research is helpful but insufficient. Clients have vast industry knowledge, and most will happily share:

Why the constraints exist in the first place

How the constraints are typically addressed or if there are varying interpretations

Ideas for improving the constraints' design impact

3. Functional Constraints

Every design brief outlines required features or functionalities:

Body copy for a marketing one-pager

Icons for a SaaS platform

Product photos for a retail display

It's unwise to think of functional constraints like items on a checklist. The client asks for it. The designer does it. ✓Check. Here, the designer is merely an extension of the client's creative faculties-like a marionette.

A better way? Ask why features and functionalities are needed before projects begin. Doing so may reveal that clients aren't strongly tied to certain requests, thus allowing designers to suggest alternative solutions when appropriate.

4. Non-functional Constraints

Non-functional constraints relate to qualities that designs should possess-words like simple, fast, easy-to-use, and affordable are common.

Here again, it's critical to understand the rationale behind clients' inclusion of such descriptors. Sometimes, clients draw unrealistic comparisons between real-world examples and the attributes they want designs to have.

For instance, if a client wants their banking app to be simple and mentions a note taking app as the benchmark, it's the designer's job to clarify the parallels the client is trying to make and point out discrepancies when correlations aren't logical.

5. Sensory Constraints

Sensory considerations are massively overlooked in contemporary design, especially digital design, where so much emphasis is placed on sight. It's rare to encounter sensory constraints in creative briefs, but by refusing to engage or even think about senses beyond sight, designers do themselves and their clients a disservice.

In years to come, sensory design will flourish as more companies look to transition experiences away from screens by integrating technology into wearables and the built environment-where sounds, smells, tastes, and textures exist in abundance.

6. Stylistic Constraints

Stylistic constraints are rooted in aesthetic qualities and are typically shared in brand style guides, component libraries, or other documents used for design decisions. Sometimes, clients blur the line between stylistic and non-functional constraints by asking designs to embody open-ended words (e.g., fun, dynamic, compassionate, etc.).

Ultimately, designers need to ask for context. Why do stylistic constraints exist and what are they meant to communicate? In this way, designers are empowered to take action when creative decisions (inevitably) pose problems not outlined in style documents.

7. Systems Constraints

Systems constraints have to do with how a new or updated design fits into an overall system of design considerations. For example, how does a UI update impact a website's:

Be warned. On one hand, there are clients who are acutely aware of systems constraints and seek assurance that new designs won't adversely impact existing systems. On the other hand, there are clients who don't realize that the design changes they want will be disruptive.

In either case, it's best for designers to be forthright about potential issues. Don't give ungrounded guarantees. Design updates come with an inherent level of risk.

8. Self-imposed Constraints

Self-imposed constraints govern creative decision-making. Some designers follow rigorous design methods, while others limit tool choices or stylistic options. Fine artists like Yayoi Kusama and Robert Smithson employ self-imposed constraints to dramatic effect.

As with any strategy, designers ought to ask themselves why they've chosen self-imposed constraints:

Do the constraints somehow link to project learnings or enhance problem-solving capacity?

Will they yield design solutions that delight users or provide clients with marketing advantages?

Or are they simply a way to stimulate creativity and overcome the proverbial blank canvas?

9. Skill Level Constraints

By default, design projects involve designers. The abilities of those designers are constraints. This is especially true of projects where designers are asked to perform roles across multiple disciplines. It also occurs when a client's budget calls for less experienced designers.

Obviously, it can be tricky to address professional shortcomings. Designers don't want to feel inadequate, and clients don't want to be short-changed. Approached tactfully, skill level constraints may be used to convince clients to hire additional design support, or they can open opportunities for designers to develop new abilities.

Embrace Design Constraints

Constraints are clues. They help designers triangulate between the problems, resources, and criteria inherent in every project and prevent precious time wasted on extraneous design ideas. When constraints are only seen as restraints, opportunities for innovation remain unearthed, often inches beneath the surface.

In a profession that encourages boundaries to be pushed, embracing constraints isn't glamorous, but it does lead to relevant design solutions with long-term staying power.
Let us know what you think! Please leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback below.

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Design Constraints Are Not Restraints - They Stoke Creativity | Toptal®

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Design constraints are clues. They help designers triangulate between the problems, resources, and criteria inherent in every project and prevent time wasted on extraneous design ideas. In a profession that encourages pushing boundaries, embracing constraints isn't glamorous, but it does lead to relevant solutions.

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We are living in the age of waste. Is design the answer to leaving our throwaway culture behind?

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https://designmuseum.org/exhibitions/waste-age-what-can-design-do

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All objects have relation, some object inspire others, other objects learn from other mistakes.

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The Psychology Of Everyday Things Hardcover – June 13, 1988

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https://charlottemartindesigns.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/signs.png

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the anthropology of the human hands.
human anatomy
hands
fucntion
cups

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See them firsthand (sorry).

Hands have historically fascinated artists and sculptors, despite being notoriously tricky to draw and even more finicky to render realistically in 3D.

Regardless, some artists have made a name for themselves through their depictions of hands: Lorenzo Quinn is the brains behind the Venice Biennale hands which rose from the canals to make a political statement on climate change. Meanwhile, Mario Irrarázabal is known for his trademark hands which, rather than rising out of the water, seem to be sprouting from the very earth itself.

If you're keen to see more oversized hands in sculpture around the world-of the permanent rather than pop-up variety-here's where to head.

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Can You Even Handle These Gigantic Hand Statues of the World

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Hands have historically fascinated artists and sculptors, despite being notoriously tricky to draw and even more finicky to render realistic in 3D. Regardless, some artists have made a name for themselves through their depictions of hands: Lorenzo Quinn is the brains behind the Venice Biennale hands which rose from the canals to make a political statement on climate change.

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revsista.escaner.cl

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Improbable things
Hanne Zaruma 2021

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Manifesto

Affordance

Mapping

Constraints

Blending

Material

Useful object

Prototyping

Crafting

Mending

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Charles Jencks- a case for improvisation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-I836KxOWo&feature=youtu.be

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Iterations exhibition at Chelsea college of arts

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Iterations exhibition at Chelsea college of arts

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmrDEX4P5l8&feature=youtu.be

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Upon my research, I came  across Donald Normans book “The design of everyday things”

In his book Norman talks about the ideology behind the construction of every day objects. This notion is particularly interesting due to its similarity to the nature of adhocism. My question then becomes ; how does adhocism manifest in everyday life. Indeed , most of the mundane objects we use are based around joining and engineering multiple materials . The argument then becomes how an artist can use design to create a design, and build an idea or a context for an object. My goal is to analyze the relationship between craftsmanship , affordance , mapping and restrictions when it comes to an object. By studying how multiple materials can be combined to create a usable entity I am also proving how adhocism is essential in product design.