Poster art fuses politics, graphics
Posters and politics are old-time bedfellows. It's the art form of choice for those with a cause because this fusion of image and text is an instant and indelible form of communication.
"A big idea, simply put" is the way Boston graphic designer and professor Elizabeth Resnick describes it. The best ones, she says, "grab you by the neck and shake you."
The 114 posters Resnick and her co-curators selected for "The Graphic Imperative: International Posters for Peace, Social Justice & The Environment, 1965-2005," exemplify that potent marriage of advocacy and aesthetics. Although the show, now at the Museum of Design Atlanta, marks the important historic moments and social issues of the past 40 years — the Vietnam war, the birth of eco-consciousness — its larger subject is the power of invention. Over and over, graphic designers dip into the same tool box — typeface and word play, photography and Photoshop, original and borrowed images — and find new ways in the show to convey their messages.
As with all printed media, the political poster's future in the digital age is uncertain. Already muted by the proliferation of commercial ads and replaced by the Internet as a vehicle for rallying support, the poster of today is more likely to be a public service announcement on a bus or a gallery artwork.
Was Shepard Fairey's iconic "Hope" poster, the portrait of Barack Obama he posted, guerrilla style, around the country a last gasp of a medium meant to live large (literally and figuratively) in our public spaces? Would a poster resonate on your computer monitor? On your iPhone? Given the creativity here, I wouldn't bet against it.
Yusaku Kamekura. "Hiroshima Appeals." 1983. This Japanese poster was among a series produced on behalf of the people of Hiroshima to maintain awareness of the threat of nuclear war. Its delicacy and indirection contrast with the crisp directness favored by many artists.
But the burning butterflies falling through the sky are a potent metaphor for the fragility of life and the terrible death wrought by nuclear bombs. It's also strangely resonant as a requiem for victims of the 9/11 disaster.
Luba Lukova. "Eco Crime." 1998. The hybrid human/ tree trunk chopping itself down sends the message that we hurt ourselves when we hurt the environment.
Kyosti Varis. "Your Lifemeter." 1971. Image and text team up for maximum impact in this Finnish poster. The burning cigarette is bold and succinct, but we might not see it as a shortened lifetime without the words.
