I decided to begin my design research by reading “Collection Selections: 10 Pivotal Political Posters“, an article posted by the San Francisco MoMA and authored by the museum’s associate curator of architecture and design, Jospeh Becker. This is a relevant and interesting examination of design throughout history which has presented information and encouraged action amongst the masses towards social justice, as the Declaration was also created to achieve. One design featured which I found particularly successful in delivering its political message in an interesting and thought-provoking way is Lorraine Schneider’s “Prime” (1967).
“Primer” Lorraine Schneider (1967)
“Primer” is an evocative and moving poster designed by American artist Lorraine Schneider (1935 – 1972) in 1967, as a response to American military intervention in Vietnam. In 1965, U.S. troops landed in Vietnam in an attempt to dispose of the Vietnamese Communist government. Over a ten year period, the U.S. alongside other Western nations including the U.K. and France fought the country’s Viet Cong guerrilla forces until the last U.S. troops left in 1975. During this time, reports returned home of the inhumane war crimes being committed against innocent Vietnamese civilians by the U.S. military, including the dropping of Napalm (a toxic agent that caused excruciating skins burns and fatality). Many Americans were shocked to learn of the atrocities being committed by their own military on foreign soil, inspiring several forms of protest including through design.
Schneider and her design have been credited with bringing the grassroots, anti-war movement, Another Mother for Peace, to international attention. The movement would use Schneider’s print as the somber front cover design for over 200,000 Mother’s Day cards distributed to the public by the movement. The cards were signed and forwarded to Congress, showing a mass opposition to the war in Vietnam.
I found this poster incredibly striking due to its animated, child-like aesthetic. A large sunflower stands vertically across the length of the poster, rendered in a foreboding black tone. The flower is starkly contrasted with the canary yellow background – a primary colour associated with vitality, joy and childhood. The flower’s expressive and lively silhouette is achieved with what appears to be a wax crayon that creates a scribbled and patchy shading. The use of crayon as a medium suggests to the audience that a child might have clumsily sketched the image. Dark, pointed stems stretch out sinisterly from the sunflower. The bright and joyfully yellow head of the flower is shrouded in an ominous black plane as though the sky has darkened behind it; starving the growing plant of nutrients and life provided by the vivid yellow sun ( as suggested by the background). The haunting phrase: “War is not healthy for children and other living things” is annotated in crayon using a large, unsophisticated handwritten font that is arranged around the stems and head of the sunflower. The typeface is extremely heavy in weight, reflecting the effect of a child’s heavy-handed motion and pressure when learning to write. There is no consistent kerning between letters. Similarly, letters and words are not aligned to a baseline, creating an intentionally disorderly presentation that allows the words to fit close to the sunflowers structure. The irregular placement of text around the illustration creates a stilted path which the audience is forced to read carefully.
I believe the child-like design is perfected by Schneider to create the impression that a child has illustrated the Mother’s Day card. In doing so, the design evokes a tragic sense of innocence as a loving card is subverted, transforming into a plea for peace. The viewer (in this case, intended to be a member of the U.S. Congress) is forced to view the war through the fearful eyes of a Vietnamese child experiencing the horrors of the conflict firsthand (it is estimated more than 84,000 Vietnamese children were killed during the war); or even an American child who was at risk of being drafted if the conflict were to continue.
“Silence = Death” Finkelstein, Howard, Johnston, Kreloff, Lione and Soccaras (1986)
“Silence = Death” is an iconic poster created in 1986 by LGBT activists: Avram Finkelstein, Brian Howard, Oliver Johnston, Charles Kreloff, Chris Lione and Jorge Soccarás. The poster (and movement by the same title) was designed in response to the appalling handling of the AIDs crisis by the Reagan Administration and U.S. Government during the 1980s.
The poster is very minimal in colour (comprised of black, white and neon pink) and in decoration. The sombre and morbid black background effectively contrasts with the white text and single, pink triangle; successfully drawing the audiences attention to its message. The white text is large taking up the width of the poster. The text utilises a formal, tall and narrow sans-serif typeface with very little kerning to allow the slogan to fit on the one line, making it easier for the viewer to read the full text. I think the large height and narrow width of the typeface is reminiscent of a tomb stone creating an sombre eeriness as it looms over the audience, reflecting the context of the text appropriately. The use of capitals produces a sense of urgency, reflecting an alert or traffic sign; emphasising the importance of spreading awareness about the AIDs crisis immediately, during a time when world leaders were willing to sacrifice millions of lives rather than take action to stop the preventable disease because of their prejudice against the LGBT community.
The poster was particularly motivated by the alarming comments made by an American politician who called for those positive with HIV to be branded with a tattoo. The posters six creators were horrified by this comment as it was hauntingly similar to the cruel practice used decades before in Nazi concentration camps to dehumanise prisoners. Thus, the design includes a pink triangle – the symbol stitched to the uniform of LGBT prisoners in the camps; centre aligned and seemingly floating in the terrifying darkness of the background. I think that the use of this geometric shape is incredibly moving as its simplicity striking and speaks volumes; allowing the audience to make the connection on their own and realise the horror of what was happening during the crisis.