We have to hold our hands up and admit that here at Chatter, we're often guilty of prioritising "form over function", so we have to work hard to make things really beautiful, that work really well too.
I don't suppose the many millions of candidates who'll have acted on the ads we've conceived, websites we've built or videos we've produced over the years, will have given much thought to how they all came about; and that's how it ought to be, because ultimately design's not art, it's not produced to be admired and studied, it has to serve a purpose, achieve an objective or help solve a problem.
Great designs are all around us. They are literally everywhere we look, from the cars we drive to the homes we live in. They're an essential part of our everyday life, and without it, life would be very very different indeed. Imagine what the world might be like without the famous London Tube Map - designed by Harry Beck and first seen in 1931, or Alec Issigonis's legendary Mini, or even Jørn Utzon's famous Sydney Opera House. They're all great examples of innovative thinking and creative problem solving which led to iconic, enduring and cherished design classics.
But more than that, they're all examples of designs that pushed boundaries, inspired new thinking and broke new frontiers.
For every obvious design classic we could mention, there's an army of unsung heroes too. Designers so good, that their creations go on reliably toiling day in, day out. Never faltering, and never giving us the excuse to have to question them.
The humble electricity pylon is one such design. They silently support our power infrastructure across the length and breadth of the country. They're so well designed in fact, that unless we're faced with having one planted at the foot of our back garden, we don't seem to mind that they're great industrial monsters of steel and cable. Their presence is almost reassuring. Thanklessly holding us together. Blending into our green and pleasant land.
But all that could be about to change following an announcement from the Royal Institute of British Architects and the National Grid, that a competition has been underway to consider new designs for these pillars of power. And in this world of NIMBY-ism, there's likely to be lots of debate and opinion about a structure that has gone largely unmentioned for the last however many years.
If you're interested to see what new pylons coming to a town near you might look like, check out the competition website. Interestingly, Utzon's design commission for the Sydney Opera House was won in exactly the same way. Initially just a vision for a harbour-side venue that structurally echoed the physical environment in which it would sit. Tall white arcs, which when viewed from a distance, would look like sails on yachts moored in the harbour. And when he won his commission in 1957, Utzon had no idea how the building could be engineered, it was just a concept. The work to make it happen all came later, and the venue was finally opened in 1973 - over time and over budget. Ultimately the pursuit of that vision has endured, and in a relatively short space of time, taken its place as one of the most iconic buildings in the modern world. In the context of a global economy that is infected and weak, real design is often sacrificed in favour of more functional, less indulgent options. Examples like Beck's London Tube map, Issigonis's Mini and Utzon's beautiful opera house, prove that great design is a sound investment in these difficult times.
More than that, they're good for the soul. Designers of the world, we salute you.
