Keeping it simple and simplicity can be two different things. But since my last post, I’ve noticed lots of reference to both as design and lifestyle trends.
Maybe corporations are noticing that there is a general fatigue and malaise among us consumers over having so much of our mental and material lives poked, prodded and overstimulated.
Fine, but let’s not replace that with inauthentic simplicity messages, please.
I’m a fan of keeping things plain, simple and true. There is enormous value in getting to the essence of your message, and being able to make yourself understood and memorable to everyone. When trying to speak to the whole wide world, you lose people the more complicated you make the message.
One of the most important tasks in getting to simplicity is understanding the DNA of who is doing the speaking and who they are trying to connect to. For example, in a conversation I had last week with someone who does this kind of thing for a living, I heard this simple message about the DNA of two particular and different societies.
Japan — craftsman
China — merchant
That message explains almost everything.
When dealing with a globally-connected world that is still separated by languages, it is important to speak in a way so clear and simple that your words can be easily translated and not misinterpreted. Wikipedia asks that all articles on the U.S. version of the online publication are accessible pretty easily by being written in simple English, thus increasing the value of the whole.
If there is a message that cuts through the noise and cacophony of the 21st century media, chances are it is a model of simplicity.
Good grammar is of course fundamental. Messy written English just messes with the minds of people around the world trying to read it. Of course, if targeting native speakers you have some latitude.
If you are feeling confused, and feel a desire to escape the din from all the messages being thrown your way, one of three things may be happening:
poor communications and complicated messages
an inability of the messenger to really understand him/herself or you
deliberate obfuscation
The problem is not with you.
So if you are one of the Americans who is feeling his/her mind confused, ask yourself which of the above is the problem.
One of the pleasures of summer in Italy is the chance to indulge in the grilled vegetable plate, usually a few slices of perfectly cooked zucchini, eggplant and tomato, warm, sweet and savory with that great olive oil and a sprinkling of salt. For some reason, this simple dish is really hard to replicate in U.S. restaurants.
But my favorite Lebanese restaurant gets it. Their dinner appetizer Matale is the best of this sort I’ve had in the U.S., even though it comes with tahini sauce instead of fruity olive oil. The thin vegetable slices are light, delicate and velvety soft with an accompaniment of crunchy cauliflower to offset the texture. I suppose you could ask for olive oil and they’d serve some. An order of this plus some soup and most of us would be set. Not that you shouldn’t try the other items of the fabulous menu.
Karam has some touches that make a meal there a lovely experience. The owner is gracious and eager to please without being at all cloying. The service is efficient and attentive. And tea fans listen up: Karam serves it in loose leaf and in a small teapot, small but highly significant gestures.
So, Sunday rolls along and I pick through the papers to pull out the travel section first. Back in the day, I’d scour the front page section and then arts, and travel would be dessert. What is it about these days that I think about travel constantly? Has it become synonymous with indulgence or is that I need escapist fantasies? And I am suddenly so much more sensitive to music that evokes the seduction of travel, like Joni Mitchell’s “Hejira” and “Carey”.
I’ve been traveling for my entire lifetime so being on the move is in my DNA. I like to “curiosare” as my Italian friend used to say as she browsed her way through new towns. My senses and powers of observation seem keener when I’m away.
I’ve traveled solo, with a friend, with my family, with a group. Each experience has its own vibe, and, as it were, its own tune.
Paolo Conte’s “Hemingway” is a deeply evocative homage to the solo adventurer, from a time when travel meant great distances, exotic and unfamiliar peoples, a touch of danger and a bit of sadness over the irresistable, addictive, ceaseless draw of travel.
After the delights of Harry’s Bar,
And the tenderness of Zanzibar,
There was this road.
After the illusions of Timbuktu,
And the long legs of Babalu,
There was this road.
This silent road that flies away,
Like a butterfly, a flight of nostalgia,
Nostalgia with a taste of Curacao.
Maybe one day I’ll explain myself better…
Et alors, M. Hemingway, ca va?
My friend Celia Latz is tapping into her 32 years of living and working as an artist in Venice to pull together a special small-group tour of the city. I am helping out. We will have uncommon access to Venice’s cultural elites and artists, who happen to be Celia’s friends. Think dinner in an 18th century palazzo on a canal with a view of Renaissance buildings across the water, hosted by someone who traces their heritage to the founders of the city state. Also, think of taking the boat ferry to Murano to visit the studio of one of Venice’s pre-eminent glass artists, not one of the people who churn out trinkets or glasses for the masses but someone who makes works for the most stately homes, glamorous embassies, important state works and exclusive hideaways in the world.
Celia and I will be talking about this trip on September 28, from 5:30 – 7:30pm at the Brian Marki Gallery.
Meanwhile, for more information go to Celia’s web site.
kmazz 