I was invited to the National Institute of Design (NID) – http://www.nid.edu/ – by Dr. Bibhudutta Baral, a man I met when he took part in the IIID/AIGA Summer Academy in Information Design in Bolzano, Italy, in the summer of 2005. Baral (that's what he likes to be called) runs the Masters-level course in Information Design here, a subject which is taken quite seriously by the Institute administration, as well as the Indian government. It is well-funded and staffed and takes on students who already have a Bachelors in design, computer science, or even psychology or sociology. There is a foundation course in design for those who haven’t yet studied it, as well as such subjects as cognitive psychology and interaction design. This fits with an example I know of, the daughter of a colleague of mine. She studied professional writing, cultural studies and anthropology before going on to do a Masters in Information Design at Carnegie Mellon University. She now works for NASA, developing and redesigning Mission Control for manned space flight to the moon and Mars. This is the kind of design that's important.
So, back to what I’m doing here in India. I've given lectures on typography (type choice, spacing, detail, etc. – the micro stuff) and layout (page proportions, grid systems – the macro stuff), as well as some of my information design subjects (wayfinding, charts & graphs, mapping). I’ll present my “Bauhaus Then and Now” talk next week here at NID, and I’ve also been invited to give a talk on Orientation and Wayfinding in Architecture at the Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT), a school I visited with Christiane while she was here during the first two weeks. CEPT is very interested in arranging an exchange and cooperation agreement with the Bauhaus Uni, as is NID. I'm sure our Rektor Gerd Zimmermann will be keen on this as well.
NID was set up in 1961, following recommendations presented by Charles and Ray Eames in a paper called the “India Report” (1958). Some of the original faculty here were people from the Bauhaus and Ulm (names to be researched). There’s a lot more detail on the web site if one is interested. The basic course here still follows many of the tenets of Johannes Itten’s foundation course, something which some reformers would like to see changed. And reform is indeed in the cards. I attended a meeting on design research, accreditation, etc. the other evening and was very impressed with what the colleagues are doing to bring themselves well into the 21st century. We could take a leaf from their book.
The main campus in Ahmenabad is almost a wildlife sanctuary. It’s a garden of Eden, with peacocks and hundereds of other birds, snails the size of a fist (these make a nasty crunch if you step on them by mistake in the dark). At this time of year the climate has already cooled off somewhat, but it can still get up to the high 30s Celsius, with humidity around 50–60%. This makes it quite uncomfortable for this Canadian – dashing from one air-conditioned environment to another is my primary activity. My room in the guest house is AC’d, as is the car (a white military-style SUV) which drives me to the Post-Grad campus in the heighbouring city of Gandhinagar (a half-hour drive), where I spend most days teaching. This place resembles an occupied Mexican motel – out in the middle of nowhere, with barbed-wire fencing, a gate with three guards, a fleet of the aforementioned SUVs and their drivers sleeping in the back seats, waiting to drive one or more of us somewhere or other. Outside the fences, wilderness reigns. There are wild (or just feral) dogs, species of bird I’ve never seen, abandoned cows (they can’t kill them) wandering around foraging. Across the street are shanty-like tent settlements with extended families sleeping on cots outside, in the background a kind of upmarket subdivision, half finished. It appears abandoned.
This is place of extremes. There are middle class families shopping and eating at McDonalds (mostly vegetarian, except for two chicken offerings), and hordes of poor people sleeping on the streets. There aren't as many beggars as one might expect, although at every stop light you get your windshield wiped with a dirty cloth, followed by insistent tapping on the window for a few rupees.
The prices here are staggeringly cheap. There are 60 Rupees to the Euro, as of now. Getting a shirt washed and pressed costs 5 Rs, a sumptuous multi-course dinner at a classy restaurant can be had for 250 Rs. Meals are pretty much strictly vegetarian and there is no alcohol. Except for one “Maharaja Chicken” burger at McDonalds (I couldn’t resist), I haven’t eaten any meat in 3 weeks, nor have I even seen a beer or a glass of wine. I've been invited for pizza and beer Monday evening at the home of a couple we met at a dinner the institute director organized last week. He runs a company selling air conditioners which must be doing very well. They drove us to a place for ice cream – this was the first time we were in a “normal” car since we arrived. A sleek Hyundai – very opulent by Indian standards (normally we travel in the government SUVs or the little 3-wheeled “auto-rickshaws”). A little guy came to the window of the car and took our order, then we sat and ate it with the engine running. Decadent, but nice.
