That’s scenic artist Anthony Fredrickson, and “Joltin” Joe Longo, TNG and DS9’s madcap property master, showing off a couple of Klingon PADDs. I used Joe’s likeness in an illustration for DS9. That was probably a mistake. Of interest: On the wall you can see a board with examples of standard ballast and flourescent tubes the physical effects department used for lighting up backlit panels. This was useful when the set designers created control consoles. Below them are racks of Rosco gels we used to color backlits, before the advent of large scale color output.
You’ve all heard stories, like having to design thirty variations on a theme, before they go back to the first one. That’s pretty much normal in television or film. In The Making of Star Trek, Matt Jefferies recounts when designing the Enterprise how maddening Roddenberry was, “…liking a piece of this one, and a piece of that one.” One of the wisest comments I’ve ever heard came from Gary Hutzel who simply said, “… it’s a process.” If you think you are going to get it the first go around, or even the second or third, you’re just setting yourself up for frustration. In 12 O’Clock High, Gregory Peck told the pilots of the 918th to, “… consider yourselves dead already, that will make it easier.”
Sometimes the producer or the director will fixate on a small, seemingly insignificant item that probably will never be seen on camera. When faced with so many decisions, it is often difficult to see the forrest for the trees. A good designer understands that and is able to show patience while working the problem through with the folks who are paying you to help them focus their vision.
In Far Beyond the Stars, the script called for illustrations of a sleazy used rocket salesman smooth talking a mark. Since Joe Longo was always smooth talking me into doing some of his work for him, I thought he would be perfect as the sales guy:
We all thought it was pretty damned hilarious, but it didn’t fly. I was asked to go back and make it a Ferengi. It made sense. I was being self indulgent by putting Joe in there. I would know better today.
That oughta do it… or so I thought. Now that they could see it they decided since this was a tale that took place in the 1950’s, I should go back and revise the character into more of a 50’s alien. Happy to do it:
The sketch was approved on the third go round, which means it was an easy one, but ultimately it was never seen. You won’t hear any complaints from me! I always felt fortunate!
To work in this industry you need to be able to be enthusiastic one the first, second, third, or even thirtieth go round, and if you are here to prove you are a genius, you are doomed to frustration and bitterness. I can tell you that John Eaves, Mike Okuda, Rick Sternbach, and me too… find challenge and… yes, fun… no matter how many times we are sent back to the well. Ultimately the sketch was never seen on the show, but it’s a good example of fixating on a detail that has nothing to do with the story. It’s a fact of life in this design game which we love so much.
Hey Doug isn’t a bit odd he last ones showing a whimpering husband holding the empty coinpurse look a wee bit like Berman? As always thanks for sharing the process of how things were/are done.
Herman Zimmerman used to remind us that there is always more than one way to solve any particular design challenge. It was his way of telling us not to get too fixated on any particular design element, because there are sooooo many factors that you can’t control. Even when you think you understand all the requirements for a design, you’re often surprised by a last-minute request from the director, or an unexpected budget problem, or a producer who wants a different approach, or a change in schedule, or any of a hundred things that fall into the category of what we called “oh, by the way….”
You’d think that this would be frustrating, and it times it was. But the odd thing is that it sometimes inspired us to stretch ourselves in different directions, and surprisingly, it sometimes even resulted in better work.
By the way, don’t feel too bad about Honest Joe. He became a Starfleet fashion model and showed up wearing a couple of different Starfleet uniforms in the pages of the Star Trek Encyclopedia, thanks to Doug!
That is very cool, thanks for the post!!!!
A great commentary on artists and the “process.” It’s a hard thing to swallow at times, for me at least, but I realize that after the third or fifth or fifteenth time around the design was much better off than when I began! The thing I love is to see the progression of the design while in the “process.” Great examples of a design and it’s evolution, Doug!
It’s not always better. Just look at what Rick and Doug had to go thru on the Enterprise-E decks.
I just remembered an example from the same episode. I had done a fake cover for Galaxy, a real magazine. I used a classic Albert Whitlock matte painting from “Court Martial” for the art. I was happy that this was a cool design that was thematically very appropriate for the episode. So I was surprised when the design was rejected. “It needs a rocket ship,” I was told. I was about to be annoyed at the thought of altering Whitlock’s painting (which is probably my favorite), but then I realized that I could add a small rocket, whose exhaust could become the light source, where the sun had been in Whitlock’s original. I made the change, which made the producer happy, and it made for a better product.
Another great post, thanks.
I’ve come very much to appreciate another set(s)of eyes on my work. For me at times, it was easy to fall in love with your own vision and loose your overall objectivity. Sometimes you are right, but I have found most often, those other eyes help bring about a better vision for inspiring me to go where I may have not previously considered going, as a result of being stuck in my own head.
My wife is the acid-test. She’s sci-fi a lay-viewer, know nothing of the process, of what to critically look for as being right or wrong, and what not. She just knows what she *feels* looks real. I always ask her, Hey Honee, whatta you think of this? And she tells me straight from the hip, and often it’s not what I *want* to hear, but it’s what I need to hear to make the shot better. So back at it. I love the process myself. And my wife isn’t even payin’ me, LOL.
For a client, I’m there to deliver their vision, filtered through my vision sure, but ultimately their vision. And I’m happy to do that eh, even passed a pay-check, as I love being helpful. May sound sappy, but waht can I say, it’s just in my nature eh.
As always, thanks for sharin’ all that Doug, and Mike. Coolness. And wonderful art-work Doug. Skillz, lil’ bit.
PLL,
deg
Oh, and thanks for more rocketship peaches, too eh.
LLP,
deg
Doug, your “Used rockets” drawing did get a quick appearance, here it is:
http://s95.photobucket.com/albums/l142/gaghyogi49/Far%20beyond%20the%20stars/UsedRocketspaintingFarbeyondthestar.jpg
Just look at what Rick and Doug had to go thru on the Enterprise-E decks.
Actually, we concluded in the end that Rick’s miniature blueprints and Doug’s cross-section stayed at 23 decks, so it must have been another MSD (possibly the one for the Ent-B). If I had to name a curious design decision, though, it would have to be the slicing of Andrew Probert’s Deck 10 into Decks 9 and 10, so that Ten Forward could be placed only in the bottom half of the old deck (now oversized).
Here’s what the old Deck 10 looked like: http://www.trekplace.com/images/ap2005int01-pic029.jpg.
Don’t know the specifics of Rick’s and Doug’s drawings, but the number of decks on the Enterprise-E did change mid-stream. History is seldom “conclusive.”
I believe you when you say it did change (because of all the weird script references to 24 decks, then at least 26, then at least 29), but Doug is not so sure that it was the one where he had to redraw the MSD, and Rick’s miniature blueprints (published in the movie sketchbook) show 23 clearly numbered decks. Anyway, I’ll wait and see if more evidence turns up.
MY memories are sketchy. When I run across the files… if I have them… we’ll know. It is true that there was something changing midstream on the E plans. I remember Mike and I being concerned about more decks, because the more decks you have to cram in, the harder for people at home to be able to discern anything useful. Mike impressed upon me, and I’ll never forget this, that on TNG, Roddenberry wanted to be able to “see the decks”. It was important to give the ship some human scale, right Mike? We only had so much real estate on the E bridge. We couldn’t make the overall display larger. So more decks was bad. – Doug
Which makes me curious about efforts in pro-dom and fandom alike to figure out deck arrangements for DS9…fodder for another posting, I suspect!
Doug: Indeed, yes. Gene was a smart guy.
Boris: I very much respect the difficulty in conducting historic research. One important thing to remember is that just because a conclusion is logically derived from evidence, it is not guaranteed that the conclusion is correct. (Sorry, Spock!)
Mike said: One important thing to remember is that just because a conclusion is logically derived from evidence, it is not guaranteed that the conclusion is correct.
true. true.
PLL,
deg
Ok, ok, I should’ve said “we think”, not “we concluded”.
Doug seemed pretty sure about his 23-deck cross-section being the final one, though, and 23 decks is a normal Rick Sternbach amount for John Eaves’ 2248 feet, but I’m not excluding the possibility of another one turning up with 26 decks or more.
Man, those new Klingon iPhones are clunkier than I thought.
Very cool to read about this sort of back-and-forth.
Book design at my day job has taken several years to nail down, because our division’s business was a new beast that had yet to define itself. While those of us in the creative group had to learn how best to work up ideas for our curriculum developers, the devs likewise underwent a process of learning how to better communicate their needs to us, after realizing what capabilities were available to them. Six years later, the process still hits occasional potholes in the road, but the work has gotten better.
In an alternative point of view on providing multiple design solutions for a client’s problem, Steve Jobs describes working with Paul Rand on the logo/identity for Next, his interim venture between stints at Apple. The master designer, having carefully studied the task and reached clear conclusions about it, refused to provide “a few options” for the design. Jobs relates Rand’s explanation: “‘I will solve your problem for you, and you will pay me. You don’t have to use the solution, and if you want options, go talk to other people. But I’ll solve your problem for you the best way I know how.’ There was a clarity about the [designer-client] relationship that was refreshing… obviously the result of thinking about that relationship for many years…”
This story made me want to learn more about Rand’s work, to say the least.
Rand sounds like he has taken a page from Howard Rourkes playbook.
No, Mr. D., I just don’t get that impression from accounts of Rand’s life. He was opinionated as hell, and became strongly critical of a lot of the newer design work that came along in the 1980s, but he seems to have come by his success through many decades of hard work and originality, without the selfish-jerk behavior that I understand Ayn Rand advocated.
Paul Rand pretty much created the notion that “graphic design” was a viable, respectable profession for creatives, way before art schools were teaching formal curriculum in it. I was very pleased to learn a bit about the guy last year while preparing for a presentation to my work group. I think we all owe him a lot.
It just happens that, by the time Jobs consulted him for the identity work (1986), Rand was comfortable enough in his career to candidly state his terms to big corporate clients. Jobs was very happy with the results, and called him “the greatest living graphic designer.” Rand died ten years later.
http://www.paul-rand.com/video_stevejobs_interview.shtml