Most publishers find it useful to state somewhere on the back or inside cover how many pages and images are in the book. Rarely, however, do they reveal the total word count. It goes without saying that a book, even a graphic design book, should contain more than a few words. But for some reason (maybe to be ironic or to pre-empt the criticism that this book is pure eye-candy) the editors of Infiltrate: The Front Lines of the New York Design Scene announce on the inside flap, which also serves as the books only introduction, that there 384 pages, 1,884 images, and 63,298 words. I haven't actually counted, but I have read it and can confirm there are many words (too many for the book itself, so the reader is referred to a website).
Yet Infiltrate would have functioned just as well without the lengthy interviews that comprise the vast majority of this high word count. With few exceptions, they do not substantively add to an understanding of the specific work being shown, nor do the captions/credits that are scrunched together in exceedingly long columns widths. Given the context that these interviews fail to provide, the 384 pages could have been filled entirely with images. Actually the majority of the pages are primarily pictorial anyway, representing twenty-three mostly young and few established New York design studios and individuals, some doing quite interesting work even if they are not all on the so-called "front lines". The interviews are meant to add color but in the type-packed powder-blue pages (which one must turn sideways to read) they are monotonously monotone. Edited to retain unnecessary and excessive throat clearing (i.e. Geoff: "I just got word from my partner, he's on his way. He's the creative director of the group, so we can start with other questions, if you have them", or Gelman: "This time let's keep it interactive. No monologues please. Question, answer. Question, answer. Okay?), these interviews read like transcripts, a form best left to FBI stings and blackmail tapes.
Even the tidbits of insight are not sustained. Questions posed to Carol Bonkuniewicz about her early partnership with Tibor Kalman at the outset of the M&Co start off well, insofar as her side of the breakup has historical import, but quickly devolve into chatter. (For example: in response to a question regarding M&Co's early interest in vernacular she asks the interviewer: "Anyway, where is this leading?" To which he answers: I don't know, we're just talking.") Granted, Infiltrate is a showcase book, but the questions could have been generally more probing.
Infiltrate promised to be a viable review of up-and-coming designers and studios in New York, a city that attracts a large amount of creative people, some of whom deserve better than mere show-and-tell. So by viable I mean, simply publishing their respective portfolios (even some rarely seen work by visible designers) does not do justice to their output, and actually diminishes it. Given the book's expansiveness, this was an opportunity to provide a serious (although accessible) examination of new currents. Rather than conversational voices, the reader would have been better served by an authoritative narration that placed these studios and advanced a rationale for why we should be interested in their idea of the future of graphic design. Although the interviews do try to capture kernels of inspiration, they ultimately fail because the questions stress the anecdotal side rather than push for self-inquiry.
Then there is the issue of structure. Other than sideways table of contents, it is flimsy at best. The twenty-three subjects are alphabetically ordered, their disparate work is neither organized by theme nor form, and there is no conceptual glue to bind them altogether. The book is therefore a hardware parts catalogue featuring presumed brand names like Base, Balloon, Famous Mime, Lone, Suitman, etc. While the title Infiltrate suggests a new breed of alternative design that is or will perhaps be influencing contemporary New York practice, even this principle is confused by the inclusion of Hunter Gatherer, Stefan Sagmeister, Paul Sahre and Jakob Trollback, who are more than worthy to be analyzed but who are beyond infiltration stage. In fact, they are bona-fide members of the new New York design establishment. It is, however, refreshing to have a book on New York design that does not include the older mainstays, but a clear rationale for inclusion would have helped to make this a less confounding resource.
But maybe analysis, structure and glue are not important issues. Perhaps attitude is what defines this 'scene'. A laissez-faire attitude certainly pervades the book's editorial intelligence. But this what is wanted from a book of 384 pages, 1,884 images and 63,298 words? No. It is not enough to select twenty-three 'infiltrators' and simply spread their work before the reader devoid of editorial authority. The editors must guide the reader somewhere-anywhere-otherwise this is just another promotion. If that is what is, then fine. But New York is a challenging theme because its design 'scene' is so difficult to define with so many variegated designs and designers here. Therefore, an insightful explanation of why New York is such a Mecca for those presented herein would have made this book more than the enigma it is.
