Do you feel a responsibility to contribute to something bigger than yourself?

Yes, I do. I think graphic design is an important profession because it’s part of what we put out into the world, and it’s what people see and perceive. It’s not just about doing design for the “public good.” The design community currently thinks that if you design something to help the victims of Hurricane Sandy, then that’s good, but if you design something for a bank, then that’s bad. I disagree. I think all design matters and all design deserves to be intelligent.

Obviously, we don’t want to advertise products that are horrible for people because that’s immoral. But if we can raise the expectation of what something can be, then we’ve done a huge service for our community. For example, consider the way most strip malls and shopping centers think they have to appear and behave: it’s horrible. Why can’t there be a different kind of experience? Why can’t we see them as something potentially terrific? There’s an architect named James Wines, whose Structure In the Environment architecture firm designed facades for a chain of BEST stores in the 1970s. He took big box stores and turned them into fantastic outdoor sculptures. He raised the expectation of what those experiences could be.

To me, that’s the most responsible design there is: taking something “bad” and making it terrific by raising the expectation. That’s what we do. I don’t know how to distribute water to people in India; I’m not trained to do that. I’m trained to make an intelligent piece of design exist in public so that people can interact with it. That’s my role, and I think that’s what the goal is.

Are you creatively satisfied?

Sometimes. I’m never done. I’m more interested in what I’m going to do than work I’ve already accomplished. My favorite projects are the ones that I haven’t finished yet: I think they will be the best thing I’ve ever done before they get screwed up. (laughing) There’s always a moment when I think a project is going to be really amazing—that’s the moment I love, and it’s what I live for. The best time is when you see what’s possible. When it’s over, it’s not possible, it just is. The future is always more interesting.

That said, is there anything you want to explore in the next 5 to 10 years?

I have started a couple projects that I like. I did a mural for a public school that allowed me to marry environmental graphics with painting. I want to do more of that. Environmental graphics has become a much bigger industry than it used to be. I’ve been experimenting with all kinds of materials that I haven’t worked with before. My partner, Abbot Miller, and I are collaborating on a project of immense scale in Florida, which we’re excited about because we’re doing things we don’t know how to do.

Being in that position is wonderful. When I’m doing things that are repetitious—when I know what the client is going to say before they say it—then it’s depressing. I’ve been in that position too many times. I’m happiest when I don’t know what the day will be like. I like it when I can walk around, free-fall a little bit, and free-associate, because that’s when I do my best work. I live with a balance of design, painting, and teaching, and those are the three things that I’d like to keep in balance.

What advice would you give to a young person starting out in design?

I’m worried about what happens to designers with technology. I think I’m really lucky because I’m not a part of any computer software generation—I was already a mature designer when the world computerized. I have students who are in their 40s now, and unless they become thought leaders in some form, they’re almost unemployable because their skills with software are minimal. Then I see students from four years ago, or interns from SVA, who are faster and know more computer programs, so they have more than just rough skills to bring to the table.

I think it’s very important for young designers to do two things. One: spend the first one to five years learning how to design and present design from somebody who is terrific at it. Having that basic understanding will carry you through the rest of their career. The second is this: develop the ability to explain, defend, and promote your work. Those are the two most important things.

If a young designer’s software skills are spectacular, but they’re assisting all the time, then they won’t get anything out of it. They have to be able to take that next step, which might mean going out on their own. The danger is getting trapped as a technologist. You need to be able to ride past the technology by understanding what it can do, who you are, and where you want to take it. You don’t want technology to lead you; you want to lead it, but it’s very hard to do that when you’re in the middle of it.

That’s great advice.

It’s amazing what young people can create on a computer.

Yeah, but if the business sense isn’t there—

Then they can’t convince somebody to buy it.

That’s why it’s so ridiculous to meet people who are good with technology, but have no leadership or interpersonal skills. It doesn’t make for a very balanced person.

I’m suspicious of people who don’t understand those skills. My team collaborates with me, but I’m the team leader. There isn’t a team doing things in and of themselves: somebody has to lead. I collaborate across disciplines, and if I don’t know how to do something, then that’s where collaboration really happens. I think the notion that you’re just going to sit and create a singular design within a committee is crazy—it’s going to be homogenized and turned into Muzak. The notion that a group of people can sit in a room and make something better by sticking a bunch of Post-it notes describing attributes on a wall is silly. (laughing) I’m sorry, but nothing well-designed comes out of committees.

No, I love it. (laughing)

We appreciate the honesty. So, you’ve lived in New York for a long time: how does it impact your work and creativity?

To a degree, I think New York has made my work look the way it does. People are impacted by where they’re from. Some of it is the influence of their collective community, and some of it is the landscape. A lot of my work is very architectural; I use type in all caps and make it long and thin, powerful and loud. My work is structured like New York and is very gridded and sometimes angled. In the 80s, Stephen Doyle said, “It’s funny. If you saw April Greiman’s work next to my work, you’d know that she was definitely from LA and I was from New York.” The sensibility of each city is inherent.