Dear readers: A colleague — a non-designer — wrote to me last week asking for help in hiring a “creative services lead” to head up a new project for his business. What should he look for in a designer? Here are the eight qualities I like.

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1) Passion, vision and self-motivation. Without these, you’ll be dragging a rock. You need someone who shares your vision. Nothing’s worse than a “what-do-you-want-me-to-do-next?” kind of designer. Well, no, yes there is. One who’s touchy and confusing, too.

2) Vocabulary. A creative lead should be able to articulate what’s happening and why, in language that you and your staff can understand. If you start hearing vague terms like “pop” and “impact,” make him explain what he means. Listen for, “If we do A and B, we can expect C.” This is not trivial.

3) Inquisitive intelligence. Look for someone who’s curious about almost everything and approaches life with a sense of wonder. Similarly, I want someone who’s taken the time to learn about my company and whose questions are perceptive.

4) Good conceptual skills. There are many ways to achieve any stated design goal. Conceptual skills find the new and interesting ones. You might articulate a hypothetical situation and ask her to describe three possible directions. Prepare to get out of your box. The best concepts are often unrecognized at first.

5) A portfolio. You’ll know in 15 seconds the designer’s skill level. Compare his work to excellence that you’ve seen, and don’t compromise. If it’s below what you’re seeking, end the interview right there. Politely, please.

6) Projects. If you see a lot of one-off stuff, no matter how attractive, it won’t tell you much; most designers can do nice, single pieces. Look for complete projects — Web site, print material and stationery, for example — that share a common look and purpose. Such work is more difficult to visualize, organize, and execute.

7) Real-world experience. The emphasis here is on “real.” Always ask under what conditions a design was achieved. How did the designer interact with the client? What was the role of each? Time frame? Revisions? Budget? Fantastic “portfolio pieces” are less desirable than solid design done under realistic conditions. If you find both, cheer!

8) Production skills. Your person will need production skills or know how to hire them. Nothing will slow you quicker than not being able to make something happen that you want to happen. Also, someone who understands typography is preferable to someone who can just type. Likewise, someone who understands the guts of Web coding is preferable to someone who can just run Dreamweaver.

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Miscellaneous notes:

It goes without saying that personalities must be compatible. Never hire an otherwise perfect candidate assuming that “he’ll change,” or that “you’ll change her.” You can usually feel the vibe right away. Trust it.

Even if you (both) like the vibe, it’s a good idea to establish a trial period. A person can be qualified and compatible, but for one reason or another can’t get the work done. You’re out of rhythm. Your work styles don’t jell. Something was misunderstood. Whatever the case, give yourselves at least a 90-day period in which either of you can terminate employment at will, for no cause at all. This is good for both of you. Creative work comes from love, passion and relationship. It can’t be faked.

Consider hiring and working long distance. Design is perfect for this, what with live chat and e-mail and FTP sites. I’ve worked with designers for 20 years who I’ve yet to meet face to face! If face time is really important, fly in once a month. That said, remember that it’s a slow market, and you may find the perfect someone who’d love to transfer to your area!

If your designer works from home, arrange for a trial period. I had a designer who tried working from home and his productivity plummeted, yet another thrives at home.

Last thing. I don’t look for a college degree. About 50% of my lifetime hires have had degrees. The average difference in skills is slight. The ones who’d been in good design programs were better than those who hadn’t, but such programs are not plentiful. I have observed, speaking broadly, that the college people tend to show better discipline in their work.

There are, of course, exceptions to all of this.

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©2010 Before & After | Design Talk. All Rights Reserved.

©2010 Before & After | Design Talk. All Rights Reserved.

The iPad will cause change. No one knows in what way, though. That’s what makes it fun. It’s an unwritten story, full of possibilities.

What’s this have to do with design? Only everything. But before we go there, let’s talk about vision, and I’ll start by digressing.

One of the thrills of youth is that everything is possible. At 18, you can attend any school, follow any profession, travel anywhere, marry anyone or no one. There are practical restrictions but no conceptual ones. The freedom is exhilarating!

As you make choices, the possibilities diminish. Choose one school and you eliminate a thousand others. Marry one girl, and you forsake all ­others. Travel here, and you can’t afford there. Find a profession, and it becomes what you do. The better you get, the more distant alternative professions become. There is some irony in this. As you build your life, decision by decision, the possibilities of youth go away.

For some, this is a good thing. Possibilities are unsettling. Certainty, predictability, routine create a comfort zone. Life feels secure. These people become product reviewers.

But this is not you.

You have a life.

Interviewing Apple’s Steve Jobs for the April 1 issue of Time magazine, author Stephen Fry writes,

“In five years, Jobs has emerged from two serious health scares. His obituaries had been written, much as Apple’s had been back in 1997. ‘Is this then the curtain dropping on your third act?’ I ask. ‘Will you perhaps leave Apple on this high, a fitting end to your career here?’ ‘I don’t think of my life as a career,’ he says. ‘I do stuff. I respond to stuff. That’s not a career — it’s a life!’ ”

Indeed.

Jobs’ vision is not clair­voyance. It’s belief. Call it your gut, call it the love of the game. You do the work and put it out there, then watch the world respond. The combined response is what makes tomorrow happen. What it will become is too complex and inter­woven for any but the most superficial guesswork. Tomorrow is the story that we — you, me, everyone — write together.

So how do you design for this? Make your work beautiful. Make it simple. Make it clear. Put it out there. Cast off the illusion that you can control the results. People respond by comparing to things they already know, so prepare for criticism. Ignore most of it. Listen to the bits that resonate. Understand that the more original your work is, the less others will be able to help you.

Your design may be an iteration of one that has gone before. This is fine. But when you truly envision something new, when you feel that vibe, don’t back off. That’s the one that may change things.

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The post above is my back-page publisher’s letter from print issue 49, which is currently in the mail. The publisher’s letter has been a staple of Before & After for 20 years and is one difference between our print and PDF formats.
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©2010 Before & After | Design Talk. All Rights Reserved.

How did you get where you are today, professionally? What paths did you take? What choices did you make? How did you make them?

I ask this regardless of when you began — whether you’re brand new or you’ve been designing for half a century.

Every life, as we all know, has decision points — do I go this way or that? — that affect the content and quality of everything that follows. Some are obvious. Others pass nearly unnoticed.

Some things we plan. But life has surprises. Fifteen years into my career as a magazine art director, the design world changed when it made the transition from drawing board to computer. It changed again with the rise of the Internet. Such changes impose demands. New skills to learn. New jobs to fill — or create! And they’re marked by loss and the grief that comes with it. Skills now useless. Income undependable. Certainties uncertain. Small things pervade. When design moved to the cold realm of digits and pixels, we all lost the warm touch of physically handling our art materials. This loss is still felt.

A few days ago, reader Christine Sawyer wrote to me with a frustration, a desire, and a decision to make — what to do with the rest of her career. It’s not a question that I can answer for her, as in, “do this” or “do that,” but her issues come so close to home that I think we might all benefit from hearing one another’s experience and the collective wisdom of the group.

Christine had this to say:

“I am reaching out to you for an opinion today. I really have an identity crisis as a ‘designer.’

“Let me explain:

“My academic background is business. I have an MBA.

“I really like design, though. I have tried several art forms along the years with no success. As a marketing person, I loved to work with my ad agency, and when I started my own business I quickly wanted to do things myself rather than give them to a designer. I found graphic design to be a better art form for me.

“I took continuing education courses in Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign and Dreamweaver, and other trainings (CDs and books).

“I subscribed to Before & After magazine, of course.

“I tried to get into the Bachelor program of a great design school in Montréal but was refused. I even took some of their classes just as an audit student (if that’s the English word for that). I found I was too ‘cerebral,’ not creative enough, not outside the box enough; I think I will always regret not to be able to take two years off my life to do the whole program, but I am 50 and don’t even live full time in Montréal.

“I find I very often get my inspiration from the work of others. I read creativity books, like the ones from Julia Cameron, to try to help my creativity. I still don’t find that I am very creative.

“So, in conclusion, I find myself being ‘not good enough’ as a designer. For instance, I belong to a free-lance Web site, and I present myself as a Web designer, but I never quite have all the qualifications required for the jobs offered. On the other hand, at times I am pretty happy with myself; for instance, when I did a WordPress Web site, montréalbydesign.com.

“I find that I am just a ‘me, too’ when it comes to design, and even though I am a strong marketing person and strategist, people in small-business Vermont don’t seem to want to pay for these expertises or don’t believe they can have a designer-marketer in one person. (They like the whole package when they start working with me, though, but they don’t always pay more for that extra expertise.)

“I have a great résumé as a business person. I even worked as an account director at the Ogilvy ad agency in Montréal. My Web site, Birchwood Ridge Group, shows my work.

“I am planning to take a photo class with The Photography Institute starting next week.

“Help me out, pleeeaaaaase. I really need help: How should I approach the rest of my business and professional life? Classes? Mentor? Other ideas?”

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Dear readers, before you dive in with advice, please recognize that, by writing, Christine has entrusted me and now you with a precious and private thing — her life — and that in doing so, she has made herself extremely vulnerable to you. Respect that. Contemplate deeply. Take your time. Be sensitive. The issues that she faces are the issues that you and I face, packaged differently but only a little. Please don’t expect to have her answer — you don’t even know her, after all — but you may have some insight or life experience that can help Christine and perhaps others, too.

Your turn.

©2010 Before & After | Design Talk. All Rights Reserved.