Since 2019, I have served as the academic advisor for the Taipei Art Direction & Design Association, offering philosophical consultations on design discourse, curation, and related topics. This collaboration has led to the development of this series of articles. The purpose of philosophy has long been a subject of debate, as philosophers often grapple with proving its utility or defending it against misuse. In Taiwan, where the development of philosophy is relatively constrained compared to Europe and America, pursuing philosophical thought without catering to specific expectations, while introducing its value to other disciplines, often remains an ideal rather than a reality. I hope this collaboration represents an attempt to explore what philosophy can offer in the practical and results-oriented domain of design.

However, even asking “What can philosophy do?” reflects a certain bias. By framing the question this way, we impose a predefined purpose on philosophy, potentially misrepresenting its nature. Philosophy’s role is to abstract from practice, aiming to discern “what this is” and “how it might be accomplished.” Thus, philosophy is not bound to achieve any particular outcome, at least not in the conventional sense. We are accustomed to assessing value through tangible results, yet philosophy often provides moments of pause and emptiness—spaces to step back, examine current practices, and identify overarching principles. This reflective process helps us determine better courses of action moving forward.

In these articles, I will use the methods of analytic philosophy to explore the aesthetics and meaning of graphic design. This vast topic encompasses numerous perspectives, but I aim to address some significant aesthetic questions within the constraints of this format. For instance, what is beauty? How can we evaluate aesthetic value? My goal is to make these discussions accessible to readers across disciplines, demonstrating philosophy’s capacity to offer insights. To this end, I will forgo some of the detailed technical debates intrinsic to analytic philosophy to present a broader understanding. This does not diminish the importance of those debates; analytic philosophy relies on rigorous argumentation to establish itself as a precise method. Yet, such insistence on technicalities can sometimes alienate outsiders, obscuring the deeper insights analytic philosophy provides. I hope readers will focus less on determining whether the analyses are “right” or “wrong” and more on understanding the meaning and implications of such analyses.

Graphic design is the practice of guiding perception, with visual experience occupying a central role in our sensory world.¹From the moment we open our eyes—or even in our dreams—our actions are directed by visual stimuli. We see what we wish to see and act accordingly, driven by a persistent desire to see. This desire shapes how we create and consume, responding to the messages conveyed through visual experiences. From painting to photography, humanity has expressed sacred and worldly beliefs, reproduced and reimagined desires, and interrogated the world through graphics. These endeavors have forged a culture rooted in visual communication, where the desire to see both fuels and is molded by visual culture.

Through the market, images circulate rapidly, exerting significant influence. To navigate this market, images often seek assistance from other images. Graphic design manifests in myriad forms—posters, brochures, magazine covers, trademarks, and more. Yet, its purpose is not merely to entice consumption but to offer choices. Amid the abundance of visible things, we ultimately decide what to focus on. Visual messages propagate because we choose not to see others. Graphic design captures our attention, and in doing so, shapes our visual culture.

The evolution of graphic design mirrors advancements in artistic mediums—from paint and printmaking to digital software. Philosophical aesthetics offers a lens to examine graphic design within the visual culture and techniques of different eras. This perspective reveals the desires underlying consumption and the motivations behind the creation and reproduction of images. Engaging in philosophical reflection on aesthetic value leads, through dialectical progression, from aesthetic appreciation to ethical considerations. Ethics, after all, negotiates the tension between desires and external constraints. By refining our ethical sensibilities through aesthetic evaluation, we can envision a richer, more thoughtful visual culture—one guided by the insights gleaned from graphic design.²

The purpose of graphic design is to convey messages successfully.¹ As we know, no message will be received unless the viewer is willing to engage with it. This is why appearance often takes priority when evaluating graphic design. Aesthetic appreciation generates pleasure, and pleasure undoubtedly provides the motivation for behavior.² Graphic design captures attention through its aesthetic form, using visual pleasure as its allure. To understand how graphic design operates and entices viewers, we must begin with its aesthetics.

However, viewing graphic design purely through an aesthetic lens unfortunately conflicts with its foundational essence as a form of design.³ At the heart of design lies the need for functionality and the ideology of pragmatism, where beauty is often sacrificed in favor of practicality.⁴ For example, if a poster fails to clearly convey key information about a movie or exhibition, its visual appeal alone cannot qualify it as good design.

This brings us to the relationship of mutual antagonism between the intuitive sense of beauty and functionality. Throughout the history of philosophy, we find that conceptual antagonisms often serve as the adhesive points of an idea. By disentangling these conflicts, we can better clarify the positions of various perspectives. Using graphic design as the anchor point for analysis, I aim to focus on the “lesion” in visual culture—namely, the tension between anti-functional aesthetics and pragmatism that suppresses beauty. These two “kitsch” tendencies obscure our vision, making it harder to imagine improved approaches to seeing.⁵

In the domain of analytic aesthetics, Glenn Parsons and Allen Carlson have already proposed the theory of functional beauty, which attempts to establish a connection between aesthetics and functionality.⁶ This theory will serve as the foundation for the following analysis. By using it to clarify the principles and objectives of various analytical steps, while identifying potential challenges, we can refine our discourse on graphic design. Ultimately, this approach will allow us to uncover an ideal framework for examining the underlying issues hidden within the conceptual operations of graphic design.

1. The Functional Beauty Theory

In their book Functional Beauty, Parsons and Carlson provide a detailed historical context for the way functionality has been sidelined in Western philosophical aesthetics. They critique the aesthetic tradition’s exclusive focus on art as the central object of aesthetic value. From the late 18th century—when Immanuel Kant introduced the concept of adherent beauty, treating the fulfillment of purpose as an external constraint rather than the source of aesthetic judgment⁷ —to the mid-20th century, when the concept of disinterestedness was embraced by aesthetic attitude theorists⁸ —and the rise of modern art perspectives that positioned fine arts as autonomous and independent practices⁹ —functionality gradually found itself pushed to the margins of aesthetic theory.

Because this aesthetic tradition excluded functional objects like design, it failed to provide a comprehensive explanation for the aesthetics of art, nature, and everyday objects. In response, Parsons and Carlson sought to bring function back to the center of aesthetic theory. They proposed the concept of functional beauty, which holds that our aesthetic experience of an object arises from understanding how its form realizes its function. This concept can be summarized as follows:

Functional Beauty: If an object gives people the impression that its form effectively realizes a specific function, it is deemed beautiful.

Here, “form” refers to the compositional elements of an object and their interrelationships. In graphic design, these forms include the relationships between text, illustrations, layouts, and layers.

From the perspective of functional beauty, the aesthetic appeal of a thriller poster—such as Saul Bass’s design for The Shining—arises from the interplay of its formal elements. The bright red background, the unsettling squirming typography of “SHiNiNG” in mixed capitals and lowercase, and the eerie, blurry face emerging from “THE” combine to create a thrilling visual experience.¹⁰ This sense of beauty is inherently tied to function. If the same design were associated with a cozy family comedy, it would appear jarring and inappropriate, detracting from its aesthetic appeal¹¹

The core of functional beauty theory lies in understanding how the functional category of an object influences our aesthetic appreciation. This categorization depends on the object’s proper function—that is, a function inherent to the object rather than one arbitrarily imposed.¹² For instance, a thriller poster’s proper function includes providing a thrilling visual experience.¹³

Following this line of thought, we must first determine the proper functions of graphic design to analyze its aesthetics. While graphic design may encompass multiple proper functions, the focus here is on how selecting a functional anchor can guide analysis. Through this framework, I aim to explore how the production and dissemination of graphic design within visual culture operate as an extensive apparatus for generating and exporting beauty, thereby shaping the development of visual aesthetics and our broader sense of beauty.

If we were to find an analogy for the interplay between graphic design and visual aesthetics, communication serves as an apt comparison. In communication, the speaker conveys a message to the listener, who gains a deeper understanding of the subject. A listener already familiar with the topic might wish to engage further, requiring the speaker to demonstrate greater expertise to sustain the conversation. Similarly, the interaction between graphic designers and their audiences involves this dynamic. Fortunately, visual communication has long been regarded as the proper function of graphic design. Expanding on this, design theorist Malcolm Barnard argues that visual communication engages with the beliefs and values of specific cultural groups through formal elements such as shapes, colors, lines, text, pictures, and layouts.¹⁴

Considering an object as graphic design—where its proper function is visual communication—naturally influences our aesthetic appreciation. Before delving further into graphic design, we must first examine the details of functional beauty theory. Building on Kendall Walton’s influential article Categories of Art, Parsons and Carlson argue that the functional category of an object determines how we categorize its formal properties.¹⁵ These properties are divided into three types: Standard, Variable, and Contra-Standard. Each category influences our experience of functional beauty differently.

• Standard Properties: These attributes establish the functional category of an object. For example, in graphic design, legibility is a standard property because it enables information conveyance.
• Contra-Standard Properties: These characteristics prevent an object from being attributed to a specific category. For instance, three-dimensionality is contra-standard in graphic design; an object with this property would not typically be considered graphic design, even if it conveys information.¹⁶
• Variable Properties: These attributes differentiate objects within the same functional category. For instance, color is a variable property in graphic design. Saul Bass’s The Shining poster exists in both red and yellow versions, each eliciting distinct responses based on the background color.

Understanding how an object realizes its function through form is critical for categorizing these properties. For example, without knowledge of the impact grids have on graphic design, it would be challenging to classify grids as standard, variable, or contra-standard in postmodern design. Thus, the categorization of formal properties depends on an understanding of how these elements fulfill an object’s function. Parsons and Carlson emphasize that this functional understanding profoundly shapes our aesthetic experience and identify three types of functional beauty experiences based on this framework.¹⁷

1.1 Simplicity

First, when most of the formal properties of an object are standard and there is minimal variation in the variable properties, it evokes feelings of “Simplicity” and “Elegance.” Plain-colored objects typically convey simplicity because they lack complex changes in multi-colored combinations. In graphic design, plain colors limit the degree of variation in color properties, thereby creating a sense of simplicity. For example, the poster designed by Alfred Hablützel for Teo Jakob’s furniture store in Geneva in 1959 is an excellent illustration.¹⁸ The background consists of yellow and white vertical rectangular color blocks, which accentuate the table and chair composed of long black frame strips, along with text neatly organized within the central yellow block. Furthermore, the stacking of the table and chair eliminates linear perspective, emphasizing the graphic characteristics of the poster. The variable properties of this work, including color and layout, exhibit only slight variations, offering a classic sense of simplicity.

1.2 Looking Fit

An aesthetic experience of “looking fit” arises when an object displays minimal contra-standard properties and a high degree of functional variable properties.¹⁹ This concept is exemplified by the International Typographic Style, which fully embodies these characteristics. Emerging in the 1920s and 1930s, the Neue Sachlichkeit movement—reacting to expressionism—popularized the pursuit of sachlich, meaning approaching the object itself or striving for objectivity close to truth. This ideological trend influenced many graphic designers, who emphasized straightforward and clear communication with practicality as their primary goal. As a result, they opted for formal elements such as grids, photography, serif-free text, and geometric shapes.²⁰

The poster Der Massanzug kleidet noch immer am besten by Walter Käch in 1928 is a classic example of the International Typographic Style. The poster directly communicates its message—“Der Massanzug kleidet noch immer am besten”—using a rectangular block to frame a photo of hands sewing, while the remaining background space features an image resembling blue textile. The poster’s text, presented in consistent, sans-serif capital letters, ensures clarity and direct communication of the message. Additionally, the use of photography reflects the context of the time, where objectivity was increasingly valued, as photography provided a more transparent representation of objects compared to the traditional painting mediums used in earlier graphic design. This poster’s variable properties, including layout, text, and graphic material, effectively enhance the function of conveying information clearly, providing a strong aesthetic experience of looking fit.²¹

1.3 Tension

Perceptive tension arises when an object belongs to a specific functional category but exhibits some contra-standard characteristics or lacks certain standard characteristics. For instance, post-modern graphic design frequently abandons the grid system, employing slanted lines or curved text layouts to create an imbalanced, dynamic visual tension. This approach transforms reading into an interactive process of searching and exploration.²² The Strange Vicissitudes poster designed by Willi Kunz in 1978 exemplifies this. The design incorporates elements of the grid system from the International Typographic Style while simultaneously using slanted layouts and alternating upper- and lowercase letters in “strange VICISSIUDES,” resulting in a visually striking and tension-filled composition.

Parsons and Carlson bridge functional categories and aesthetic experiences through their proposal of three types of functional beauty experiences. This framework significantly advances the aesthetic analysis of design by emphasizing the role of function in shaping beauty. Moreover, their work highlights the philosophical implications of functional beauty: the dialectical relationship between function and aesthetics merges the values of pragmatism and beauty. This synthesis underscores that favoring one value over the other leads to misunderstandings. Overemphasizing practicality at the expense of beauty, or prioritizing aesthetics while rejecting pragmatism, hinders a comprehensive understanding of value and risks fostering a new form of fetishism.

2. Beyond Function

A theory holds value because it provides meaning and direction for practice. The establishment of the theory of functional beauty has shifted function back to the center of aesthetics, offering an opportunity to move beyond the aesthetic tradition’s exclusive focus on art. However, in crafting the concept of functional beauty, the additional emphasis on function led Parsons and Carlson to focus primarily on aligning “beauty” with the practical aspects of design. This, in turn, overlooked design’s potential to create beauty beyond mere practicality.

A closer examination of the theory of functional beauty reveals that the examples Parsons and Carlson offer predominantly involve forms whose functions are unrelated to aesthetics, such as vehicle tires, engines, spoilers, glass doors, and furnace heads. These are elements we intuitively associate with design in practical contexts. This approach results in a framework that views design primarily through the lens of functionality-oriented objects. However, if our interest lies in design’s pursuit of beauty and its cultural significance, the analysis cannot stop here.

When considering works like the poster for The Shining or Barbara Kruger’s Untitled (Your Body Is a Battleground), created for the 1989 protest advocating reproductive freedom in Washington, are the experiences of functional beauty alone sufficient to explain the aesthetic impact? They are not. For example, the thrilling sensation evoked by The Shining poster is central to its appreciation, yet the theory of functional beauty fails to explain the connection between this sensation and aesthetic appreciation. Similarly, the beauty of Kruger’s poster arises from the profound meaning it conveys, rooted in introspection about the oppression of women’s rights under patriarchy. Functional beauty, however, does not account for how such meaning influences aesthetic experience.²³

Every problematic claim originates from the assumptions of its theoretical foundation. The flaws in the theory of functional beauty stem from its reliance on functionalism to explain phenomenology. Viewing function as a “black box” means we can describe inputs and outputs but lack insight into the transformative processes occurring in between. Functional beauty offers the “skeleton” of design practice—how materials (graphics, text, etc.) are assembled via forms like layers and relationships to achieve a specific function, such as conveying a message. However, it neglects the “tissue” that fills this skeleton: the beauty or meaning imbued by the materials themselves, which undeniably influences aesthetic appreciation.²⁴ Graphic design transforms these elements into cohesive experiences, but without analyzing the input materials, we cannot understand the transformations that occur, leaving aesthetic explanations hollow.

Parsons might counter this criticism by arguing that the theory’s limitations are not its fault, as the experiences provided by materials are unrelated to the aesthetic appreciation of graphic design itself. This argument is rooted in the presumption that the object and practice of graphic design are separate. When treating graphic design as an object, we may appreciate the visual experiences it offers, but the practice of graphic design is not about creating those experiences. This ontological stance is elaborated in Parsons’ The Philosophy of Design, where he posits that design practice creates not the object itself but the plan for its creation. Similar to an architect who designs a building but does not construct it, the graphic designer’s role is primarily conceptual.²⁵

Understanding graphic design as planning reframes it as a practice of utilizing materials rather than creating them.²⁶ This perspective helps distinguish graphic design from visual art. While some visual arts also serve the function of visual communication—such as Western religious paintings that convey the Vatican’s beliefs through color and line—they are not categorized as graphic design. Painting on canvas or modeling objects using software may fulfill communicative functions but remain distinct from graphic design, which focuses on how these creations are used as part of a plan.²⁷

This planning perspective also illuminates the historical evolution of graphic design. For instance, Dada’s photomontage and modern collage art—often cited as precursors to contemporary graphic design—emphasize the assembly of found objects rather than their inherent beauty. However, this does not imply that aesthetic experiences derived from materials should be dismissed when analyzing graphic design. While the creation of materials falls outside the scope of graphic design, the designer’s selection and use of materials directly contribute to the aesthetic experience.²⁸

Selecting appropriate materials is a critical aspect of graphic design practice. If the designer’s goal is to create an aesthetic experience, the beauty of the materials becomes essential. Even seemingly mediocre materials can be elevated under the designer’s aesthetic vision, becoming integral to the overall plan. While graphic design does not always involve creating materials, it invariably involves selecting and incorporating them. Neglecting the aesthetic experience of the materials themselves means failing to fully appreciate how the design fulfills its function of providing an aesthetic experience. Without this understanding, we cannot comprehend how the designer achieves the intended outcome.

3. Open the Black Box

The core problem with the functional beauty theory lies in its understanding of design as a type of plan, distinct from the act of creating materials. Parsons and Carlson, when filling in the content of this plan with practicality-based examples, focus on designs whose main objective is not the pursuit of beauty. As a result, the sense of beauty is not prioritized in the selection of materials. Consequently, the functional beauty framework sacrifices the sensory experiences and meanings that design can offer.²⁹ If a designer creates with beauty as a goal—where the functions of the design include providing an aesthetic experience—then the beauty of the materials becomes a critical consideration. Their aesthetic value inevitably influences how we evaluate the work. While it is unreasonable to criticize a designer for not creating materials from scratch, the use of subpar materials undeniably poses an issue for the design.³⁰

I aim to highlight the potential of this practice and propose a theoretical framework to better understand its aesthetics. Some might argue that if the beauty of materials contributes to the aesthetic experience of graphic design, then how does this differ from the aesthetics of visual art? The distinction, I believe, lies in the focus of appreciation. In visual art, such as paintings, the aesthetic qualities of the picture itself command our primary attention. By contrast, when a poster incorporates a painting, we do not focus on how the form of the painting fulfills its function in isolation.

Instead, the aesthetic experience of such a picture functions as a background element, integrated with other materials. Our attention shifts toward understanding how these visual elements combine into a cohesive form, producing an overall aesthetic experience. When appreciating a work as graphic design, the resulting aesthetic experience emerges from the interplay between the background (the picture) and the foreground (other elements).³¹ The materials used in graphic design often derive from the broader pictorial arts tradition, including paintings, photography, and other forms of visual art. Since the aesthetic experiences provided by these materials form the foundation for graphic design, an appreciation for beauty within pictorial arts becomes a key professional competency for graphic designers. In this sense, a professional graphic designer can be regarded as an ideal embodiment of the aesthetic subject.³²

Having established the foundational content for the aesthetic experience of graphic design, we can now consider how to evaluate its aesthetic value. In the next article, I will explore how aesthetic theory can guide the creation of a system for evaluating the aesthetics of graphic design. Given that the aesthetic appreciation of materials shapes how we evaluate graphic design in terms of its capacity to provide an aesthetic experience, we must begin by analyzing how these materials compose the overall picture presented to us, generating a unified sense of beauty.

Merely analyzing the transformation from input to output is insufficient to comprehend the operations within the “black box” of design. These transformations are grounded in the input data, and the “black box” can only be revealed through epistemological descriptions of this data. When the input material in graphic design consists of visual art, phenomenological analysis of these materials is essential to establish the knowledge base for evaluating their aesthetic value.

To address this, I will introduce the concept of pictorial analysis as practiced by visual art historians, highlighting its two layers. The first layer pertains to the aesthetic experience of the picture itself, while the second focuses on how the picture is utilized within a broader context. I will demonstrate how the first layer can be integrated into the framework of graphic design aesthetics, addressing the omissions in functional beauty theory. Furthermore, I will argue that the second layer represents the core of aesthetic appreciation in graphic design and provides a bridge between the two layers of analysis. By examining this transition, we can develop a more comprehensive understanding of how the aesthetic value of graphic design emerges from its materials and their application.

Next Chapter: Style and Genre

In the previous article, I explained the functions of graphic design through the lens of visual communication. I then reviewed the theory of Functional Beauty by Glenn Parsons and Allen Carlson to establish a connection between functionality and aesthetic experience, using the relationship between visual communication and aesthetic appreciation as a starting point for analyzing the aesthetics of graphic design.

The functional beauty theory contributes significantly by showing how understanding the functional category of a work enables us to categorize its formal elements based on their relevance to fulfilling the intended function. This categorization helps explain the aesthetic experience through the influences these formal elements exert. Thus, when appreciating a graphic design, we must first understand how the work achieves its visual communication objectives to make a well-informed aesthetic evaluation.

However, the functional beauty theory has its limitations. It explains the aesthetic experience of design solely by assessing whether the form aids in realizing the function, neglecting designs where aesthetic appreciation stems from the experiences provided by the materials themselves. Consequently, the theory excludes the aesthetic experience of the material from its framework, failing to fully account for the sensory experiences and meanings introduced by graphic design.

Certainly, what we care about is not the isolated aesthetic experience of individual materials. For instance, if a poster incorporates a photograph, our concern is not the photograph’s aesthetic experience per se—that is a matter for the aesthetics of visual art. Instead, the aesthetics of graphic design must address how the aesthetic experience of the photograph integrates with experiences from other materials to form a cohesive whole that warrants aesthetic appreciation.

To achieve this, we need to establish a foundational knowledge base. This involves understanding the materials graphic designers select for different visual communication objectives and analyzing the patterns used to assemble these materials into a unified picture that conveys an aesthetic experience. This necessitates an analysis of patterns in images to clarify their evolution and derive systematic insights from past graphic design works. In other words, we must undertake a historical analysis of these image-making practices to uncover how they create beauty. This requires a methodology rooted in the history of graphic design.¹

1. Iconography and Iconology

Our objective is to reintegrate the sense of beauty derived from materials into the aesthetic experience of graphic design. The foundational step in building the required history of graphic design involves conducting phenomenological descriptions of images composed using these materials and documenting how their patterns have evolved over time. This historical inquiry is essential, as philosophical analysis does not emerge solely from abstract concepts but from extracting raw material from practice and abstracting it into knowledge. By tracing the historical practices, we uncover the foundations of philosophy, which are shaped by the historical context in which they arise.

What is needed is a historical methodology capable of documenting and analyzing the aesthetic experiences provided by these images, while also explaining why they appear in specific historical contexts and what meanings they hold. This is the task already being undertaken by the history of visual arts. The overlap is unsurprising since the aesthetic experiences omitted by functional beauty theory are often treated as the domain of art. By integrating art historical methods into the aesthetic analysis of design, we can construct the contextual foundation for aesthetic vision through the aesthetic experiences of the materials.²

Visual art history has a long-standing tradition of describing and interpreting the experiences and patterns of images—a practice known as iconography. Erwin Panofsky significantly contributed to this field by distinguishing between iconography and iconology. The difference can be likened to the distinction between ethnography and ethnology: ethnography focuses on documenting and organizing the details of an ethnic group’s life, while ethnology compares this culture to those of other groups. Similarly, iconography describes the aesthetic experiences elicited by images, whereas iconology delves into the social and cultural meanings behind those images.³

Panofsky further divided the practices of art history into three levels:

1. Pre-iconography: Focuses on identifying objects or events represented by artists through specific formal elements.
2. Iconography: Explains the narratives, motifs, or themes arising from the combination of these objects or events.
3. Iconology: Analyzes the symbolic meanings and cultural contexts embedded in the images.

Through iconography, art historians interpret these elements as depicting Gabriel announcing to Mary that she will bear God’s child, with lilies symbolizing her purity. This interpretation organizes the thematic pattern: The Annunciation. At the iconological level, deeper questions emerge: What theological significance does Cestello Annunciation hold within Christianity? What meanings are conveyed by Botticelli’s depiction of Mary’s posture and expression—showing hesitation, tension, and even anxiety—elements absent in earlier works?

Panofsky’s differentiation of the three levels—pre-iconography, iconography, and iconology—is not without its limitations. It is challenging to strictly separate pre-iconography from iconography, as identifying the objects or events depicted in a picture often requires some understanding of its narrative or theme. Additionally, iconological assumptions about the symbolic meanings or cultural context of a picture can influence interpretations at the iconographic level. However, the aim here is not to delve into debates about the methodological nuances of art history. Instead, this framework serves as a prototype for outlining the practices of pictorial art history and exploring its relationship with the aesthetics of graphic design.

Through the documentation of iconography, we can trace how pictures with specific themes evolve through art history, acquiring unique forms and styles. For instance, in Renaissance Italy, The Annunciation was depicted in distinct ways by artists such as Piero della Francesca (c. 1455), Domenico Veneziano (c. 1445), Filippo Lippi (c. 1440), and Botticelli. Each version provides distinct aesthetic experiences, including balanced composition, the interplay of outdoor lighting and spatial arrangement, detailed perspective structures, and the affetti (expressive bodily dynamics) of the figures.⁴

This example demonstrates how the practice of iconography systematically documents and interprets the aesthetic experiences created by images with diverse themes and styles. For graphic design, aesthetic analysis depends on understanding how designers employ specific patterns to integrate different pictorial materials into a cohesive aesthetic whole. Consequently, the establishment of iconography forms the cornerstone of developing a robust aesthetic framework for graphic design.⁵ To apply iconography to graphic design, we must first categorize its various themes, identify works that represent these themes in graphic design history, and then conduct phenomenological descriptions of their visual compositions.

How, then, should we categorize the themes of graphic design images? The purpose of analyzing themes is to group works with similar purposes into the same category, enabling systematic comparison. Iconography facilitates the organization of designs with shared themes, allowing for an evaluative framework that can distinguish better designs from less effective ones.

By analyzing the functions of graphic designs within different themes, we can assess their aesthetic value based on the successful realization of their intended functions. Additionally, this approach helps us identify how different patterns either aid or hinder the fulfillment of these functions, ultimately contributing to a more nuanced understanding of graphic design’s aesthetic and functional interplay.

Therefore, the differentiation of themes serves to categorize pictures according to their functions. A specific function imbues a creation with meaning. By understanding the function of an object, we gain a foundational understanding of its existence. Similarly, clarifying the individual functions of a graphic naturally delineates its theme. Conversely, when analyzing the themes of graphic design images through functional analysis, our focus shifts to understanding why the designer chose a particular approach and how audiences interpret the design. This line of inquiry seeks to uncover the cultural context that inspired the creative motivation and assess the impact of the work on the history of graphic design and visual culture.

Thus, the investigation into the existence of a graphic constitutes a form of iconological practice. W.J.T. Mitchell provides a pivotal explanation of iconology, describing it as the exploration of the concept of the picture and an effort to explain what a picture is.⁶ In essence, iconology is the study of the picture itself—a philosophical inquiry into the nature of the image. As a branch of philosophy, iconology not only examines the essence of pictures but also investigates their production processes and cultural meanings.⁷

This perspective highlights that iconological analysis is a vital method for understanding what functions a picture serves and why it serves those functions. The relationship between theme and function operates as two sides of the same coin: while a theme assigns a specific function to a picture, clarifying the function helps identify its theme. This interdependent relationship underscores the mutual importance of iconography and iconology in establishing the aesthetics of graphic design. Together, they provide a comprehensive framework for analyzing both the visual and cultural dimensions of graphic design.

2. Categories of Graphic Design

At this point, I hope to have outlined a clear pathway for understanding the aesthetics of graphic design, rooted in the historical and philosophical practices of iconography and iconology. The aesthetics of graphic design centers on whether the overall picture, composed of visual materials with specific patterns, successfully realizes its intended function. Iconography helps us categorize graphic design works based on specific themes, while iconology enables us to clarify the functions of these works.

To develop a comprehensive aesthetic theory of graphic design, two additional steps are required:

1. Progressing from iconographical analysis to iconology—establishing the connection between a graphic’s theme and its function.
2. Evaluating whether the graphic has successfully realized its intended function after the function is clarified.

The latter will be addressed in the next article, where I will explore how the realization of functions informs the aesthetic value of graphic design. For now, we will focus on the former and continue with the current analysis.

Determining the theme of a graphic does not automatically provide insight into its context or meaning. Images sharing the same theme can convey entirely different messages depending on the creator. For example, René Magritte’s La Trahison des Images features an image of a pipe, yet its accompanying text, “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe”), subverts the expectation of literal representation.⁸ E.H. Gombrich argued that before delving into the meaning of a picture, we should evaluate whether specific formal elements adhere to established rules for conveying the artist’s (or sponsor’s) intended message.⁹

A picture’s meaning is not dictated by its theme alone but by our assumption about the message the artist intends to communicate through that theme.¹⁰ Since an artist’s intention cannot be directly accessed, we must rely on historical data and identify the rules by which specific pictorial patterns convey messages. By organizing works with similar formal elements and purposes in art history, we can speculate on the functions of a given picture. These rules create a link between the artist’s intention and the formal elements of the work, allowing us to categorize historical artworks into distinct clusters. Each cluster corresponds to different functions¹¹

To formalize this approach, the next step involves using a conceptual framework to abstract the clusters identified through these rules. In literary criticism, the concept of genre has long served this purpose. Gombrich applied the concept of genre to the study of visual art history, introducing a systematic way to connect clusters of works with their respective functions.¹²

So, how should the genre of graphic design be distinguished?¹³ One method is to group works with similar functions, analyze their forms, and identify their common elements or features, which can then be used to define the genre. Gombrich taught us that the importance of genre lies in connecting the theme of the picture with the creator’s intention. The concept of genre must be thoroughly explained to describe how it will affect our interpretation of the work. According to this perspective, when we categorize a work into a particular genre, it means that it possesses the formal elements that define that genre. Therefore, we anticipate these elements to carry specific creative intentions and propose corresponding interpretations of the work.

In the previous article, we discussed the poster designed by Saul Bass for the movie The Shining. Based on elements such as its colors, text, and composition, we would undoubtedly categorize it as a thriller movie poster. Thus, we expect this poster to evoke a sense of anticipation for the movie by providing a thrilling experience, and we interpret its formal elements as intended to provoke fear and anxiety. However, although some works belong to a specific genre, they do not necessarily feature certain formal elements that should belong to that genre.

For example, the poster for the movie Hereditary, designed by the graphic design company Gravillis Inc., features a model house with bright lights at night, where the color and brightness of the lights in all rooms appear almost constant. Some rooms defy gravity, rotating 90 or 180 degrees. The people inside are figurines, seemingly lost in their own worlds, creating an image that evokes feelings of treachery rather than fear or anxiety. Even though this work is categorized as a thriller movie poster, it does not feature the typical frightful elements. If we compare the Hereditary poster with the expectations we have for The Shining poster, we might feel that the Hereditary poster fails to do what a thriller movie poster is supposed to do, but this reaction would clearly be unreasonable. This shows that it is difficult for us to identify a set of common formal features in these posters defined as the thriller movie genre.

Certainly, we can subdivide a genre into other sub-genres. However, this will not solve the current issue. Differentiating sub-genres can allow us to better understand the creative intentions behind works in each sub-genre, but it does not help explain how the original genre affects interpretation. The reason why genre evaluation influences the interpretation of works is that when we categorize a work into a certain genre, we expect it to fulfill the functions that belong to that genre. However, different formal elements can realize the same function. Therefore, it becomes difficult for us to demarcate a set of formal elements to define a specific genre. However, everything becomes much easier if, in reverse, we determine the genre through the functions of the work, and then select the formal elements related to realizing that function.¹⁴

3. From Style to Genre

Works within the same genre may serve different functions, but they must share a core function to be classified under the same genre. To identify this core function, we need an anchoring point that unites similar works. If our focus is graphic design aimed at providing an aesthetic experience, the most intuitive approach is to identify the shared function among works that deliver a comparable experience. This approach aligns with practices in aesthetics and criticism: when we appreciate or critique a work, we typically compare it with other works that evoke a similar aesthetic experience.

To describe the shared aesthetic experience of a group of works, the concept of style naturally comes to mind. If we can categorize functions common to a group of works distinguished by style, these functions will offer the best definition for the genre of that group. The crucial task, then, is to establish a visible connection between a work’s style and its function. Achieving this requires analyzing how style is formed and identifying the core factor that enables a work’s function within the causal chain that shapes its style.

We attribute a work to styles such as American Art Deco or Internationalism because of certain formal features that elicit specific experiences. Some works possess these features because the designer intentionally chose to incorporate them. When appreciating such works, we not only perceive their style but often infer the motives underlying the creation of that style. Creations within the same style can have diverse objectives: some may employ certain elements to explore experimental possibilities, while others may use them to evoke nostalgia. This demonstrates that aesthetic experiences are shaped by the formal elements of a style and by the audience’s interpretation of the creator’s motives. Kendall Walton articulated this by examining the expressive qualities of works, thereby bridging philosophical aesthetics and the philosophy of art.¹⁵

As Walton reminds us: “… style is not expression but the means of expression.”¹⁶ A work belongs to a particular style due to its specific features, but this merely signifies its potential to express a particular aesthetic experience. The audience’s interpretation of the creator’s motives is what actualizes that expression. By understanding how an audience anticipates the creator’s intent, we can uncover how a work, through its stylistic forms, conveys its function. This reveals the connection between style and function: the perceived motive behind the creative act, which endows the work with its style, becomes the key determinant of its function.¹⁷

As compared to an analysis that begins with formal features, starting with an examination of the creative actions offers a distinct theoretical model. Instead of first identifying a cluster of formal features and then attempting to classify works into genres, this approach begins with the actions that produce the significant formal elements of a work. From these actions, we piece together the aesthetic experiences the work generates and align them with an abstract conception of genre.

This method does not presuppose the existence of overarching genres that must later be subdivided into sub-genres. Instead, it clarifies the purposes of specific creative actions, determines the (sub-)genre through this analysis, and then examines the activities involved in the creative process. Using this framework, genres previously identified can help uncover the functions of a work. This approach also allows us to observe whether common creative methods and techniques enable works with specific sub-genre functions to coalesce into larger genres.

To illustrate, let us analyze the poster designed by Armin Hofmann for the ballet Giselle at Basler Freilichtspiele in 1959. At first glance, we likely notice the pirouetting ballet dancer in the background. The blurriness of the photograph conveys the dancer’s dynamism and accentuates the silhouettes formed by her posture. The title of the ballet is vertically aligned on the left side of the poster in large font, effectively utilizing the negative space. Event-related information, such as the performance time and venue, is arranged horizontally in the top left corner. The entire poster features sans-serif text, with a black-and-white color scheme providing a minimalist base tone.

By analyzing the creative motives behind these formal elements, we can observe that the asymmetric layout facilitates readability and ensures the message is effectively communicated. The sans-serif text and the simplicity of the monochrome palette minimize distractions and evoke a sense of minimalism. The connection between various forms—layout, typography, color, and more—can be individually linked to specific genres.¹⁸ However, from a macroscopic perspective, these elements share the overarching function of delivering messages directly, simply, and clearly. This broader function aligns the work with the main genre of Internationalist Graphic Design.¹⁹

This design arrangement allows the background photograph to captivate attention seamlessly. Most importantly, the design achieves this subtly and imperceptibly. Hofmann masterfully embodies the essence of Internationalism: a design that becomes an almost invisible conduit, enabling the dynamism and elegance of the ballet dancer to appear before the viewer as if through a transparent membrane. This intuitive quality is what profoundly resonates with audiences. It also demonstrates how the selection of photographic materials determines whether a work achieves the status of a classic. Without high-quality materials, even the most skillful allocation of forms will render the work hollow. Conversely, this poster exemplifies how superior graphic design is constructed through the interplay of materials and formal elements, ultimately presenting audiences with an aesthetic experience imbued with beauty.

This bottom-up approach to art history allows us to uncover the details of the creative actions underlying a work’s aesthetic experience through the analysis of style, providing a bird’s-eye view of its functional aspects. Understanding genre through creative actions clarifies how the creator’s purpose influences our interpretation of the work. Once the work is categorized into a genre, we can evaluate whether its formal elements are sufficient to fulfill its functions, thereby enabling an accurate interpretation.

This concept of genre broadens discussions of functional beauty.²⁰ Understanding the functions of graphic design through genre relies on grasping both the theme and creative style of the work. Themes allow us to categorize the intended pattern of messages the designer seeks to communicate, while the analysis of style reveals how the designer, through their creative approach, conveys specific messages and experiences. This perspective moves beyond the transcendental concerns of philosophical aesthetics to an immanent analysis, sorting out how graphic design organizes materials that provide aesthetic experiences within the framework of art history.

With this understanding, we engage in a two-way analysis of iconography and iconology. Iconography categorizes pictorial patterns associated with different themes, while iconological analysis refines these categorizations by incorporating the concept of genre. This reciprocal process improves documentation and classification. Through the determination of genre, we can clarify the purpose of creations with specific themes expressed in particular styles, evaluating whether the designer’s practices—such as the selection and arrangement of materials—successfully realize the intended functions. Finally, we can assess the aesthetic value of a work based on how well its functions have been realized.²¹

This approach, which bridges art history and philosophical aesthetics, addresses the shortcomings of functional beauty theory while offering a comprehensive framework for appreciating graphic design. It demonstrates how designs achieve their functions through the aesthetic experiences enabled by their materials.

Next Chapter: Value and Ethics

In the last article, I explored how to establish a foundation for the aesthetic theory of graphic design through the iconographical and iconological practices of art history, using a conceptual analysis of style and genre. This methodology allows us to appreciate graphic designs that achieve the function of message delivery through the beauty of their materials. Through iconographical descriptions, we can document the types of materials a designer selects, as well as the themes and styles they use to compose the overall work. Iconological analysis then clarifies the functions, confirms the genre, and enables interpretation and evaluation of the work.

The establishment of genre provides a framework for analyzing how different design practices shape the aesthetic experiences elicited by a work. When design is viewed as a creative plan, and the purpose of the plan is connected to the creation of beauty, we experience corresponding aesthetic pleasure if the plan is successful. The core of graphic design practice involves two key aspects: the selection of materials and the arrangement of materials. Consequently, the impact of genre on the aesthetic appreciation of graphic design manifests in both areas.

In appreciating a graphic design, the aesthetic pleasure derived from the materials themselves forms part of the overall experience. However, these material-based experiences typically function as the background in aesthetic appreciation. For example, in a poster that incorporates a painting or a photograph, our primary focus is not on how the artist created the forms, as we might in appreciating standalone paintings or photographs. Instead, the materials provide a sensory and meaningful foundation that supports our focus on the designer’s organization of these elements. In this context, the foreground of aesthetic experience is the sense of beauty produced by the interplay of the materials. This aspect of functional beauty, as discussed by Parsons and Carlson, encompasses experiences like harmony, gracefulness, and tension.

That said, the theory of functional beauty overlooks the aesthetic experiences and meanings derived from the materials themselves. By focusing solely on the beauty arising from the realization of functions, this theory neglects the background experience that is integral to the practice of design. We often find graphic design beautiful because the designer has either precisely conveyed the experience offered by the materials or created a meaningful context for interpreting their significance.¹ This layered aesthetic experience is a crucial criterion for evaluating graphic design and is the subject I wish to elaborate on further.²

1. Precision and Profoundness of Aesthetic Appreciation

The iconological analysis allows us to differentiate the genre of works, thereby making separate comparisons of graphic design according to the functions. For a piece of work to be good, it must not only realize the functions, but must also realize with success. The connection between function and aesthetics should not only be a relationship of all or nothing. If a work realizes its functions with more success, it will then have more aesthetic value in that genre; when appreciating that work, it can be seen that we will not merely feel that it is beautiful – our aesthetic experience obviously includes a certain level corresponding to the degree of successful realization of the functions.

Let us go back to a basic question to unveil the aforementioned discussion: What is success? Successfully doing something means that doing so realizes the inherent purpose of that activity. For instance, the inherent purpose of archery is to shoot the bullseye. Therefore, the closer the position shot to the bullseye, the more successful it will be for the archery activity. From this analogy, we know that if we care about how graphic design realizes functions through the sense of beauty, then a good work will have to precisely convey the aesthetic experience.

A tragedy will not be successful just because it has caused enormous pain to people. What makes us feel the absolute beauty of a tragedy is often the grief that just hits the spot. A piece of work can get us because it has effectively conveyed some important messages. During the process of aesthetic appreciation, we are allowed to receive and analyze these messages smoothly with the guidance of the work. Therefore, to convey the aesthetic experience precisely, one must catch the audience's attention, and make them extract the information while following the presumed perspective. And to obtain one's attention, the best approach is to strike a chord.³

This explains why selecting the right materials is vital to the practice of graphic design: the picture of the material itself contains messages like symbols and emotions; the materials combine to form the background we see, offer us the intuition to understand the work, and then determine whether the audiences will resonate with at first glance and be attracted by the graphic in front of their eyes.

After selecting appropriate materials, professional graphic designers further imbue their work with meaning through elements such as composition, color, and narrative. Our admiration for a piece that accurately conveys its message is not solely based on its legibility. The value of precision lies in the complexity of the message: if a design merely communicates superficial information without deeper implications, its precision will lack significance. One of graphic design’s vital functions is to provide a context that gives depth to the message and effectively conveys it to the audience. For instance, in the poster series designed by Gregor Huber and Ivan Sterzinger for the 2013 Talk to the Hand exhibition, the interplay of hand gestures and their interactions with figures prompts deeper reflections on the role of hands in communication, thereby creating a rich context for understanding both visual and other forms of communication.⁴

How does this relate to aesthetics? The theory of functional beauty posits that aesthetic experience arises from understanding how something achieves its functions through formal elements. This suggests that aesthetic appreciation requires a degree of familiarity with the practice and purpose behind the work. Consider the elegance of a swimmer’s fluid posture: this beauty stems from the precise coordination of body movements that adhere to the principles of biomechanics. The swimmer’s speed and force serve as a medium, bringing the underlying principles to the forefront. A deeper understanding of these principles enhances our aesthetic appreciation.⁵

If an experience is aesthetic, it will inevitably prompt us to delve deeper into the matters it presents.⁶ Thus, when a creative action aims to realize the function of providing an aesthetic experience, it is essentially inviting a specific audience to gain a deeper understanding of the issues embedded within the message conveyed by that action—just as a found object becomes art by challenging our imagination about the nature of art. Conversely, if achieving a certain objective holds profound meaning, it provides fertile ground for the cultivation of aesthetic experience, as profundity involves attaining a more fundamental understanding of the matters at hand.⁷

It is worth noting that we often associate philosophy with profound analysis or perspectives,⁸ yet we do not intuitively think of philosophy and aesthetics as related.⁹ This contrast highlights the unique role of art: artists compel their audiences to delve deeper into matters through the artistic forms of their works. The profound aesthetic experience emerges from the interplay between the audience and the artistic formal elements. In contrast, the profundity of philosophy arises not from the organization of form but directly from its content. In philosophy, the relationship between form and content is transparent; the audience grasps the message as soon as they encounter the form.¹⁰

This distinction underscores an important point: for a work to successfully convey a particular position or value, it must establish a meaningful connection between its formal elements and its subject matter. A work dense with intellectual content alone is more akin to a lecture devoid of depth. Profound works achieve their depth by connecting abstract, expansive topics with personal narratives or experiences through artistic forms. The intricate connection between form and content is the essence of design practice.

From this, we uncover a significant commonality between design and philosophy: content and data only acquire profound meaning under philosophical analysis, just as formal elements only convey profound messages under the direction of design planning. While much remains to be said about the possibility of philosophy possessing aesthetic value, this connection suggests a potential crossover. Beyond viewing theoretical creations through an aesthetic lens, we might find that profoundness, as a dimension of the aesthetic experience of design, becomes increasingly intuitive.

2. Creativity and Imagination

Up to this point, I have endeavored to elucidate the aesthetic experience of graphic design. However, our inquiry does not end at understanding how graphic design can be beautiful. A more pressing question emerges: what kind of graphic design possesses higher aesthetic value? Through the analogy of archery, we discussed the precision with which graphic design conveys a sense of beauty. Precision, as a component of the aesthetic experience, provides an index for aesthetic evaluation. Yet, one significant dimension of aesthetic value remains unaddressed by this analogy: creativity.¹¹

Returning to the archery analogy, the posture used to hit the bullseye is inconsequential as long as the target is hit. However, when evaluating graphic design, we not only assess the level of success in achieving its function through precision but also consider whether the method of achieving that function is novel.¹²

Why is creativity important in the evaluation of aesthetic value? A work that successfully fulfills aesthetic-related functions should indeed provide the audience with a satisfying experience. However, no matter how exceptional or classic a work may be, prolonged aesthetic appreciation inevitably leads to a desire for novelty—an urge to encounter fresh and innovative aesthetic experiences. After all, aesthetic appreciation is intrinsically tied to the pursuit of pleasure, and pleasure is something humanity universally seeks. Throughout history, humankind has continuously engaged in creative activities, with countless new works being produced daily. Yet without originality, aesthetic appreciation would eventually stagnate, even if there were abundant works to admire.

If, while appreciating a new work, we discover that its methods of evoking sensory experiences, constructing narratives, or enabling interaction are identical to those of an older work, we instinctively assign it a lower aesthetic value compared to a more creative work—regardless of how effectively it fulfills its functions.¹³ Conversely, the ability to create something distinct or to achieve a breakthrough in a specific domain is often what gives creators a sense of purpose and significance in their work. This underscores that, alongside precision in conveying a sense of beauty, creativity is a crucial criterion in evaluating aesthetic value. These two criteria are not entirely separate, as creativity often stems from discovering a more precise way of generating aesthetic experiences. However, creativity also possesses unique qualities that extend beyond precision, as I will demonstrate in the following analysis.

Creativity is often understood as the introduction of a property into a creation that has never existed in previous works, thereby endowing the creation with value. However, such a definition is insufficient—it fails to clarify the nature of this value or the factors that contribute to it. Consider an example proposed by Matthew Kieran: a stroke patient attempting to write something, who unintentionally creates an abstract image that exhibits an extraordinary sense of beauty unmatched by any previous artist.¹⁴ While this creation is undoubtedly novel and valuable, we would not regard it as creative. This indicates that the core of creativity lies elsewhere.

The key to understanding the example of the stroke patient lies in the fact that, while the patient created beautiful pictures, he had no intention of producing original creations. If someone lacks the motive to pursue creativity, we regard their creation as accidental—no matter how innovative or valuable it may be—and refrain from describing it as creative. Some might argue that many creative works emerge without the creators’ direct intention to innovate, arising instead from unforeseen incidents or decisions during the process. However, the crucial factor is the creator’s motive to engage in creative work, not whether they were explicitly thinking about creativity during the act. While creators may unintentionally produce innovative works through certain methods, without the underlying intent to innovate, it becomes difficult to classify their creations as truly creative.

But what if the patient, upon realizing the beauty of his pictures, intentionally began attempting to create similar works? Would he then become a creative creator? The answer is no. Even if the patient’s pictures are creative, the creativity would not originate from him but from the neurological damage affecting his brain. This highlights a vital element of creativity: the creative aspect of a work must stem from the creator’s mental processes rather than external factors such as other people’s ideas or non-human influences (e.g., a stroke).¹⁵

This raises an important question: what kind of mental operation enables creativity? Alison Hills and Alexander Bird provide valuable insight by suggesting that imagination is the source of creativity. Imagination allows us to discover new possibilities among the myriad methods for realizing functions.¹⁶ Works from the past serve as references, showcasing established methods for achieving specific functions, while imagination enables us to transcend these limitations. It can inspire us to repurpose approaches used for different functions, integrate multiple realization methods, or even introduce entirely new functions.

For example, in Dimensional Typography, J. Abbott Miller presents several cases of text design using molding techniques like extrusion and rotation. One standout example involves Miller drawing inspiration from rhizomes to create three-dimensional and botanical features in the reference text Jesus Loves You by Lucas de Groot. This demonstrates how imagination can transform existing references into innovative methods for conveying messages through text, exemplifying creativity in design.¹⁷

Design is the process of planning to realize functions, while imagination enables us to conceive new plans. However, novelty alone does not guarantee quality. Blue-sky thinking does not always lead to works with aesthetic value. On one hand, we pursue creativity, but on the other hand, our creations must be guided by aesthetic standards. Giorgio Agamben reminds us that true creation involves understanding what one is capable of creating, choosing not to do so, and instead exploring other possibilities.¹⁸

The works of the past not only show us existing methods for achieving certain functions but also highlight which approaches are superior and which may detract from the value of a work. To imbue creative works with value, we must engage with the traditions of planning within a specific genre. These traditions provide reliable aesthetic standards. By understanding the tradition we operate within, revisiting its successful endeavors, and consciously breaking through its limitations while retaining its strengths, we can create imaginative designs that are both innovative and valuable.

This perspective underscores the importance of iconography and iconology in establishing the aesthetics of graphic design. These practices help us define the traditions of a particular genre and evaluate the creativity and value of individual works within that context. A successful designer, therefore, is not only skilled in technical execution but also possesses the aesthetic discernment necessary to assess a work’s value in relation to its tradition, enabling them to craft superior creations. By combining the comprehensive insights of iconography and iconology with aesthetic analysis, the pursuit of creativity becomes a means to develop new plans imbued with aesthetic value.

3. The Ethics of Graphic Design

Thus far, we have identified two critical aspects for evaluating the aesthetic value of graphic design: the precision with which the aesthetic experience is conveyed and the creativity of the associated plan. However, these discussions have been confined to the evaluation of works within a single genre. When engaging in aesthetic evaluation—especially in contexts such as award adjudication or exhibition curation—we often encounter comparisons between works from different genres. In philosophical aesthetics, the evaluation of cross-genre works is an intriguing and essential topic. Is it possible to establish standards for evaluating works across different genres?¹⁹

Admittedly, comparing works from different genres is challenging. For example, it is difficult to determine whether the movie poster for The Shining is better than the trademark for MUJI. Nonetheless, it seems counterintuitive to suggest that aesthetic appreciation is entirely relative to genre. A thriller movie poster and a romance novel cover belong to distinct genres, but we can likely still articulate criteria to justify preferring one design over the other—or at least highlight specific aspects where one excels.

How, then, should cross-genre aesthetic evaluations be conducted? First, works that involve diverse creative actions often require analysis from multiple genre perspectives. This is why evaluations of such works tend to be mixed: a work might excel in realizing functions associated with one genre²⁰ while exhibiting flaws when judged through the lens of another. When evaluating a work involving multiple genres, the key lies in prioritizing the genres in order of importance and conducting the comparison accordingly.

What factors determine this prioritization? The designer’s intention is a significant consideration. If a designer primarily intends for a work to realize Function A, and it accomplishes this goal successfully, it would be unreasonable to assign a low evaluation based solely on minor flaws in achieving a secondary Function B.

However, a designer’s intention does not determine everything. Pipe cleaners were initially designed to clean pipes, but they have since become a widely popular material for crafts. Although the company originally produced pipe cleaners for cleaning purposes, if consumers primarily purchase them for handcrafting, this market-driven function should take precedence when evaluating their aesthetic value.²¹

It is worth noting that while considerations from the creator’s intent and the consumer’s usage may appear separate or even contradictory, both are ultimately related to how the design is utilized. The critical point is to understand what functions the design serves in practice to conduct a meaningful aesthetic evaluation.

Following this principle, we can prioritize the different genres a work belongs to. The next challenge is determining how to compare works across genres or those with varying genre priorities. One feasible method is to compare the values of the functions realized by works in different genres. Undoubtedly, functions with greater societal value often create more overall value. This explains why we typically regard a piece of design that addresses significant topics—such as gender equality, human rights, or environmental issues—as more valuable than a work that fails to inspire thought or influence.

Design, as the plan for creation, determines both the functions a work will fulfill and the methods for fulfilling them. Consequently, design establishes the issues a work addresses and its potential societal influence.²² While different issues—such as gender and race—are equally significant, we compare works based on the depth with which they address their respective topics. As previously discussed, creating profound experiences is a key aspect of aesthetic value. Thus, the depth of engagement directly relates to the quality of a design.

Consider two works of historical significance in graphic design: Adrian Allison’s 1930 Art Deco poster East African Transports for the Empire Marketing Board and Barbara Kruger’s 1989 poster Untitled (Your Body is a Battleground), created for a protest advocating reproductive freedom against anti-abortion laws in Washington. Both works effectively convey their messages, and while gender and colonialism are equally important topics, Kruger’s poster is often considered superior.

Allison’s poster exoticizes Africa, depicting Africans as faceless laborers with heads bowed, reinforcing British imperial dominance and reflecting a shallow, authoritarian colonial perspective. In contrast, Kruger’s poster critiques the patriarchal gaze on women’s bodies. By framing bodily autonomy as a battle, it creates a powerful context of agency and empowerment. This difference in the depth of engagement with their respective issues illustrates why Kruger’s work is deemed more impactful.²³

An issue’s importance extends beyond urgency; it involves addressing fundamental conditions or problems that provoke deeper thought and inspire action. However, profoundness cannot be achieved by merely presenting an issue. The audience’s understanding emerges from their interaction with the work’s formal elements. This layer of experience enhances the issue’s potential, offering audiences the context needed for deeper comprehension. If a work fails to convey its message effectively, it may not inspire its audience and could even propagate harmful values. Therefore, profoundness is essential for design to ethically and effectively address issues.

Aesthetic appreciation, as an experience of profound understanding, inherently contains ethical value.²⁴ Actions that encourage deeper comprehension of issues enhance our awareness of ourselves and society, connecting disparate dimensions of understanding and enabling thoughtful responses to human conditions. In this light, profoundness becomes a universal criterion for cross-genre aesthetic evaluation. As a discipline, graphic design is uniquely positioned to endow visual works with this essential quality.

Next Chapter: Conclusion

Through this series of articles, I aim to demonstrate that the aesthetics of graphic design profoundly influences cultural development in two significant ways.

First, the practice of graphic design is intricately tied to consumer activities, serving as a conduit for delivering imagery to the public. When a designer selects specific visuals and circulates them through the market, these images become a focal point for shaping the audience’s experiences and thoughts, thereby influencing visual culture. The creation of imagery is inherently linked to certain values, while graphic design, as the blueprint for visual communication, orchestrates how these values are conveyed and shaped. Appreciating the aesthetics of graphic design demands a creative and profound engagement with visual culture.

Second, at the heart of graphic design is the selection and application of visual materials. A designer achieves aesthetic success by leveraging professional expertise in visual aesthetics to carefully select materials, build upon past traditions, and use innovative approaches to compose them into coherent visuals that effectively communicate messages. To delve into the aesthetics of graphic design, we must understand how these images are crafted, why they possess aesthetic appeal, and integrate insights from visual art history and philosophical aesthetics to analyze their creative actions and purposes across various themes and styles. This reveals the critical role of graphic design education in providing a new lens through which to examine issues of human existence and civilization. Through enriched creation and consumption, it fosters the capability and ethical grounding necessary to transform culture.

Finally, I would like to propose several areas for further exploration in the aesthetics of graphic design.

W.T.J. Mitchell, in his article There Are No Visual Media, highlights an essential perspective. While his title might suggest that visual media does not literally exist, his point is that we should not exclusively focus on the visual dimension when examining objects typically categorized as visual media. These media often incorporate multiple sensory experiences.¹ The Versations series, published by Warner Lehrer in 1980, serves as a compelling example of the importance of understanding graphic design through the lens of rhythm.²

Additionally, the discussion thus far has concentrated on static graphics. However, the growing field of motion graphic design warrants attention. Motion graphics introduce the dimensions of time and space, significantly impacting graphic design practices.³ This development also bridges graphic design with related fields such as animation and video games, where techniques like molding and editing are increasingly experimental tools for designers. The interplay between these forms holds significance not only for visual art history and media studies but also for aesthetics, offering new avenues to explore the aesthetic experiences of time and space.

In previous discussions, we distinguished between the usage and creation of materials, categorizing the former under graphic design practice. However, the creation of original materials provides distinct advantages, such as enhancing precision in message delivery and fostering originality in works. This explains why many professional graphic designers invest in techniques like drawing and molding, with some even emerging as pioneers of visual art. This intersection of graphic design and visual art has been a pivotal point since Dada, emphasizing that the focus of philosophical aesthetics should no longer be the division between design and art. Instead, we should explore the philosophical implications of these creative patterns and media and their influence on visual aesthetics.

The insights gained from such analyses will guide the evolution of graphic design, shaping the identity and capabilities of the next generation of graphic designers.