The last memory to go
Graphic Elisava 2020
Lots of things tend to happen during a graphic.elisava master’s program. Mountains of research. Maybe one or two existential crises. Designing so much that you have nightmares about mismatched hex codes.
In some weird twist of fate, this year’s biggest ‘thing’ ended up being a global pandemic. We were forced to embrace digitalism over presentialism, do more with less, and channel disillusionment into positivity. In school, the lesson comes before the test, but life often takes the opposite approach. We think we’re better for it.
PLATFORM AND IDENTITY
For this year’s degree show we decided to continue the digitalist lifestyle that we’ve come to know. Pills replace name tags, thumbnails replace handshakes, and ingenuity replaces normality in order to illustrate how we view topics like “design ethics”, “comfort”, “manifestos”, and “freedom”.
This is graphic.elisava’s digital Degree Show. Find out more about the program at graphic.elisava.net
Many thanks to this year’s students in the Graphic Design and the Editorial Design master’s degrees. The 2020 graphic.elisava Degree Show – both the platform and the campaign that precedes it – wouldn’t have been possible without the indefatigable work of a group of design students making time for it in the middle of their end-of-year presentations.
On the typeface
The last memory to go
The world of smell: exploring different sides of this powerful sense
The fact that we can remember smells with 65% accuracy after a year makes smell the most sensitive of the five senses. Although, smell is repressed in modern society, and its social history has been ignored.
“It is a sense that
is simultaneously sublime and animalistic.”
This book explores the crucial role that smell plays in almost every aspect of our lives and the reasons that make it so valuable.
The smells are insubstantial—
There’s no denying that.
They walk right through, transparently,
The walls I tremble at.
And all day long they saunter
In and out my nose:
Orris-root and camphor,
And wild wet rose.
Their names and occupations
And secret hopes I share:
Salty sea and loamy earth
And quick-scented air.
Strange, the daily habits—
Informal at the most—
Of smells that act like fairies,
Or nothing, or a ghost.
Strange. Yet all the verities
My heart is keeping green
Were never touched, and never heard,
And very seldom seen.