By embracing sensitivity over logic, designers can learn from old masters and create new solutions that reconnect to us being humans.
Written by
Darren Yeo
In a world facing climate change and economic challenges, more technology and productivity aren’t the solutions; instead, we need to embrace emotions and human values, using design philosophies like Bauhaus and Kosei to unlock deeper, meaningful innovations. (image source: Getty; Bauhaus Imaginista)
The sound of chatter filled the room as old acquaintances meet each other again. It didn’t matter who they were, because it was the familiar faces that knew each other over the years. The other noises, such as the clanking of cutlery and the occasional clink of wine glasses as waiters pour a never ending supply of alcohol.
Just then, I could hear the distinct knocking of the top of a microphone, which usually signals the sound of someone speaking. As it turns out, there was a fireside chat happening while everyone was merrymaking in the same ballroom. Three distinguished guests were up on stage: one was a senior parliament member, one was a very notable designer, and the last was the president of the organisation that ran the event.
Like Kabuki, a Japanese theatre mixed with dramatic performance with traditional dance, your senses are overloaded not only by the stage design and performance, but also by the audience and the entire surroundings. (image source: wikipedia)
The topic that was presented to them was on how design could present itself as an answer to solve some of the world’s most pressing issues, such as climate change, and whether countries could unite together based on their similarities.
As each speaker attempted to share their thoughts, the noise in the room continued to drown. Perhaps it was the intoxication of the alcohol that got the better of the crowd, but it was obvious very few were actually paying attention to the wisdom of the stage.
The rowdy group were none other than fellow designers with years of expertise under their belt, and none of them were listening.
It’s a shame how courtesy is a very humane trait but often abandoned when there are different objectives, such as socialising, However, to technology, it is noise, and wouldn’t know how to rationalise. This is because whatever output comes out of the conversation are most likely positive discussions. So how would a machine know about the precarious situation? This is why good design doesn’t rely on big data. Good design rely on thick or clean data.
Interestingly, data has a multi-dimensional aspect to it. One can determine how much decibels there is in a noisy room. Range and duration can also play a part too, but where it gets interesting is the meaning behind the noise. As words are put together, interpretation comes about with the formation of words in a sentence. Responses are generated when a dialogue takes place, and sentiments can be collected depending the nature of the conversation.
Sentiments. How we evaluate the quality of emotions based on two inputs: whether it is positive or negative. In design, we often see this as a graph with a happy and sad emoji along a customer journey map. Once we pick out the pain points and gains, we map the emotions on a 2-axis graph and mark it as complete.
It’s a shame how the industry feels the same about this too. How often do we see emojis in customer feedback forms and rate our emotions along a 5 point scale? Thus, the worldview of emotions and business are predominantly centred around these 5 circular shapes. At least visibly.
We see a caricature of emotions as 5 faces in a customer satisfaction survey, missing out on an entire vocabulary of feelings, sensitivity, and emotional meaning. (Yeo, 2024)
With great difficulty, the legendary designer picked up the mic to give his response. Part of the reason for his difficulty was due to the language spoken. Being native Japanese, he had to glance at his script in his phone to share his thoughts in English, which is commendable given that he is fast approaching his seventies. It did require the audience to pay extra attention to each word that he spoke. The following words are some of his verbatim that could be heard:
The thinking mind is often viewed as a prized possession among the human race. Without doubt, many inventions lie in the complex formulas and know-hows that led to the advancement of technologies.
At some point in history, the feeling mind were viewed as an important faculty too. Although viewed in the area of the arts, the ability to make deep observations and connect abstract concepts also brings about great innovation too. Therefore, the cultivation of the feeling mind is important.
Taylorism is perceived to be the go to reference of scientific management. With the advancement of technology and mass production, institutions, including education, leverage on its teaching, which taps heavily into analytical thinking (image source: Old Tokyo)
However, our educational system indoctrinates analytical thinking, partly due to the pseudo scientific management of Taylorism. As mass production kicks in, optimisation and productivity become the rule of thumb, and rigorous thinking takes over. In a previous article, I argued about how adding A for Arts and R for Renaissance to form the word MASTER could be a reform in our education system. Evidently, STEM education continues to be the dominant discipline taught to students.
But feeling is different. It’s simultaneous. The feeling of the chair, the carpet, the drink, the flushness of your face and temperature of the room. It can all be felt at once.
Only in design schools could we understand how the abstract topic of feelings could be expressed in design. Through various design exercises, our design tutors provided us opportunities to express feelings.
One particular exercise was to use squares to express a particular meaning in an abstract world. To the thinking mind, he may have picked each square and label them with an attached association, but misses the point by thinking every square needs a name. To the feeling mind, he may assembled all the squares in a particular order that expresses an associated word, like ‘serenity’ or ‘dangerous’.
A sample of the square exercise, which teaches about the Gestalt Principle, an important visual concept of hierachy used in modern computing applications (image source: angelamuliu)
In another exercise, we had to pick two distinct objects and show the metamorphosis in 6–7 frames. To the thinking mind, he may have picked two objects that are directly related together, like a milk bottle and a cocktail mixer, but misses the point of fully expressing the object through every curve and shift of the two forms. To the feeling mind, he may choose two objects that have various elements that fit the overall semantics. For example, the playground swing morphing into a howling gibbon is a more interesting choice because of the movement, the anatomy, and the squeaking rusty sound of the metal with the loud howling from the monkey’s vocals.
And if you cannot feel anything, you cannot be creative.
These exercises may jot the memory of any avid designer to link it back to Bauhaus. More than a style, Bauhaus was a collective of practitioners that view design as a pedagogy — almost like a way of life similar to routines and morning exercises.
In fact, preliminary exercises like the above examples are essential to developing sensitivity to make exceptional design elements. Bauhaus master Johannes Itten advocated for a holistic education that considered mind, body, and spirit. It could prepare students to create the total work of art. Experimental theatre and playing with material thus become part of the courses before going into specialisation.
Here’s another point of view from another Bauhaus master specialising in textiles,
“We do not want pictures, but rather we want to arrive at the best-possible, ultimate, living fabric! It has to be possible to grasp it with “hands." The value of the fabric is recognised in the tactile; in the tactile value, one has to listen to the secrets of the fabric, follow the sounds of the materials; one has not only to grasp the structure with the brain but also feel it with the subconscious.” — Otti Berger, 1930
Otti Berger’s work in textile design was groundbreaking at her time as she explored innovative ways to do more with fabrics. Despite her short and unfortunate end in her life, she left many lessons to her students as a Bauhaus master (image source: fembio.org)
The same could thus be applied on any object: a chair, a music player, theatrical play or graphics, but Bauhaus did so by integrating a community of artists working together. Through practice. Through dining. Through merrymaking. Through learning. There were no gender divides, which was rare at the time of the 1920s for women to have an equal voice in the studios. That voice became a common language for the Bauhaus movement. It became amplified after the apprentices became masters and cyclically influenced new masters, such as Dieter Ram. They also influenced the foreign visiting students, who later brought their learnings back to their countries. Some even form schools to adopt a similar practice. One such country is Japan.
We need to have a shared feeling as a common language.
After Japanese students Takehiko Mizutani, Iwao, and Michiko Yamawaki returned from their Bauhaus experience, they took up teaching positions in the newly formed school known as the Shikenchiku Kōgei Gakuin (School of New Architecture and Design), founded by Architect Renshichirō Kawakita in 1932. Having not left Japan to witness the Bauhaus movement himself, Kawakita translated manuscripts, such as Von Material zu Architektur (1929), a book by the Hungarian Bauhaus master László Moholy-Nagy, as well as organising meetings to contextualise Bauhaus in a Japanese setting. Emerging out of the discussions arose the kōsei education, which combined Josef Albers’ “material form education,” Wassily Kandinsky’s “abstract form education,” and the materials-orientated approach of Laszlo Moholy-Nagy.
Renshichirō Kawakita may not have impacted the architectural communities of his time, but he did shape the art education of Japan by publishing Bauhaus-inspired methods with the help of Fukujiro Gōtō, head of the Art Education Association. In this setting, he is showing art teachers his approach using his self-developed Kōsei method. (image source: Bauhaus Imaginista)
The essence of Kōsei was the sharpening of the senses and observing of daily life. By picking out the daily structures of everyday life and redesigning them through the examination of human activities with the lens of nature and social connection, everyday problems can be solved with the roots of Bauhaus principles of technology and phenomenology.
Sadly, although Kōsei was directed towards the architectural disciplines to rouse new ways of thinking, due to the Japanese political climate in the 1930s of a top-down authoritative government, Japanese Bauhaus thrived for a short period of time before the Shikenchiku Kōgei Gakuin closed its doors. It did, however, gain attention in Japanese art education through the supervision of Fukujiro Gōtō, head of the Art Education Association.
It is no wonder how Japanese masters like Naoto Fukasawa become prolific in the design field. In fact, he was that very notable designer who was sharing his point of view about design feeling at the fireside chat. As a guest of honour in a design trade association event, Fukasawa wasted no time the next day by leading various design practitioners into the same Bauhaus and Kosei exercise. With strips of bamboo and washi, designers were asked to go back to the basics of expressing their feelings through the materials provided to create tabletop lamps, all within 100 minutes. The outcome was fascinating, as there were no two identical lamps as each designer expressed a different form and function with what they had.
A design feeling workshop conducted by Naoto Fukasawa that revisits design feeling using his approach of “without thought” or affordance. Using strips of bamboo and washi paper, the outcomes from designers from various disciplines show the limitless potential in coming up with an idea (image source: Tham)
Without thought or applying affordance. This has been Fukasawa’s lifelong pursuit as he layers sensory cues with the subconscious mind. One of his most famous pieces, Muji’s wall-mounted CD player, demonstrated this view perfectly. Somehow, the pulling of the cord attached to the CD player felt familiar. A memory of feeling cold wind brushing your face from a fan is now replaced with the twirling of a CD and the melody of nature from a Muji soundtrack. One could say that it was precisely that design icon that propelled Muji to become a popular global brand.
The allure of that familiar feeling is what makes design so powerful among people. Partly because that feeling can be shared, both simultaneously but also all at once as a community. Alas, the master’s words truly reflect the hidden value from within. Perhaps using design feeling is indeed the better phrase than design thinking.
As climate change, geopolitical tensions, and economic stagnation continue to plague the world, creating endless consumption of new technologies isn’t the answer. Neither is the Taylorism of increasing productivity with better thinking the answer.
We will need more “feeling” vocabulary where sharpening of our senses and emotions goes beyond rudimentary 5-point scales of satisfaction. We often boxed emotions in a corporate setting. We prescribe behaviours rather than observing from the start. And so we find it hard to unpack the concept of love, charity, and honesty to expand on other values beyond numbers. We also find it hard to capture such attributes into our objects.
Design exercises, such as Bauhaus and Kosei, prompt us to look beyond the squares, curves, and pictures. Because amidst the noise of the world, there is the silver lining of words spoken by a design master, waiting for the next set of design masters to provide their world-changing design solutions to the world.