Having recently seen the Nokia “morph” concept (available here), the whole horizontal vs. vertical debate seems pretty outdated. In the more immediate future, it is likely that we will be bridging the gap between the Iphone and the laptop, with a series of devices that have unconventional resolutions. This will pose substantial challenges to graphic designers, but is also a moment of opportunity.

Back around 2002, the common wisdom was that you should design for an 800px by 600px screen. This led to the creation of many fixed-width, narrow websites, reminiscent of newspaper columns. Now that many people have 24 inch screens, or at least wide-screen proportions on their machines, that thinking is far outdated. Designers must accommodate flexible website proportions, changing resolutions, and even orientation flips (again, the Iphone).

CSS has done a great job of making HMTL much more flexible. Instead of constructing a website like a Microsoft Word document, we can now “tag” various pieces of content within the website and define its aesthetic qualities. We can imagine a future where different CSS configurations get triggered depending on what device is accessing them. If your future-toaster wants to pull up a 750px by 2500px image, no problem! Just load the CSS-toaster style sheet.

The long term is even more fantastical. If the physical medium actually changes, the digital content also has to move around, resize and re-conceptualize itself. That’s why the Nokia Morph piece is so compelling–it’s a real change in how people think about visual content, and how stable that content is. What would the Mona Lisa look like if you took the frame and bent it into the shape of a watch? Cubists and other abstract artists would probably fare much better in that example.

Update (May 05, 2008):
Lightspeed VP brings up this point in relation to data transfer and processing power. The richness and processing demand of web-based applications does not play very well with the emergence of computer-like handheld devices.

The window is a very powerful symbol, playing the role of both door and mirror. Even more so, it creates a veil of imagination that enriches out perception. The truth is, behind the windows in the shot above are cubicles. Rows upon rows of beige cubicles, with tired analysts staring at computers. Behind the window is the world of the mundane. One could certainly delve into that world, and photograph their tired faces–but that would be trite. Instead we focus on the possibility, on that potential seen in the window, a reflection of ourselves made fantastical.

All the recent news about Hillary, Obama, Spitzer, corporate CEOs getting fired, etc., leads one to think about functional divides–specifically the role of the executive. It seems that the executive is an easy target, a metaphor for the rest of the organization. It is also a role of ego and star power. But is it a creative one?

Our three branches: legislative, executive and judiciary. These are tried and true functional categories that are applicable to more than just governmental division of power. On way to generalize them would be as follows: creator, decision-maker, and critic. It is easy to see how this is applicable to both the corporate world (producer, manager, the market) and the art world (artist, agent/gallery owner, critic/market/academic).

The producer-artist has the most access to creativity and originality, but is the least powerful. She is subject to immediate judgment from the decision-maker, and the secondary judgment of the critic or audience. She is the one with the highest aspirations, and the lowest probability of those aspirations coming true. Our troubled executives fall into the second category. Their power lies in controlling the lever, driven by a relentless ability to decide YES or (more frequently) NO. They control the floodgates of culture, economy and political power; but arguably are akin to a computer circuit. Judges, whether legal, academic, or mass-audience, are blessed with an unmatched longevity. Unlike the twitchy executive, their decision is final and historic, raising or sinking others permanently. It seems though that this is mostly a role of consumption, cynicism and editing, and not one of creativity. On the other hand, judgment can turn to revolution.

Of course, these distinctions tend to blend together. For example, Presidents and Supreme Court Justices do love to legislate. And all artists have decided long ago that they are, and will be for all time, the best.

PS. Interesting to note that the concept of God has the characteristics of both creator (thought up the world) and judge (is the arbiter of ultimate truth). Yet there is no executive power! One could say then that the executive is defined by her ability to err, and is thus truly unique to humanity. Conclusion: the credit crisis is a metaphor for human nature and free will.

Humans use stereotypes and generalizations as shortcuts to get through an over-complicated world. Decision makers, such as admissions committees, galleries and investment managers, all rely on track records. They flatten information into easily understood streams of progress. For example, if you were looking to invest your money, you would find a professional that has outperformed a benchmark for the last five years. Similarly, an art gallery will ask to see where you have previously exhibited in order to keep or cut you. Nobody wants to take on a dud, and so indicators of prior performance are used as guides.

As far as I know, only in the investment business do people make an explicit statement that past performance does not necessarily translate into future performance. Mean reversion is pretty powerful. Since doing well can sometimes be simply an expression of statistical luck, that luck tends to run out. Many times, managers that have outperformed in the past few years will be have several down years soon after. A kind of gravity. And so clients are thoroughly warned not to read too much into the past. It seems that in the art world, the track record is far more important. There is a heavy institutional mindset that is hungry for reputation.

So what about investments (galleries choosing to represent artists are investing) that are lumpy: many years of sideways or zero performance, and then BOOM, a true hit. The financial world has plenty of such business models, laying down capital and patiently working until the payoff. How is this handled in the arts? Are there venture firms that sponsor 20 emerging artists to have one or two succeed? If so, they are painfully rare.

A systematic portfolio approach could be implemented by the galleries to breathe some freedom into the scene. Certainly galleries have a portfolio of artists, but they are often similar quantitatively (reputation, tenure, etc). Your 401K portfolio on the other hand takes advantage of lumpy performance, by holding stocks, bonds, hedge funds, commodities, and so on to diversify your returns.  The possibility of those excess returns is pretty valuable. Galleries could do this too: take on a few blue-chip artists, those with long lists of exhibitions and 10-page resumes. At the same time, have a slice of the gallery devoted to emerging thought and new blood.

Weekends are reserved for creating, so it is likely that UA will take a break every Saturday and Sunday. Or perhaps it will just turn slightly more philosophical.

For example, the layout of this website and the photographs posted so far raises a natural question. Media that is read, such as pages of books, newspapers, magazines, and (unfortunately) websites, has a vertical proportion. Think of anything you may write on and its dimensions: vertical rectangle. The world of words is ruled by 8.5″ x 11″. Legal paper spills its content even further down. Go back in history and consider written scrolls, which are vertically unending. Language is vertical.

Visual content tends toward the horizontal. Television, the movie theater, your wide-screen monitor. All these tools are perpendicular to the written word. We instinctively expect the horizontal to be a “pausing” experience. One stops by a horizontal painting to quietly consider it, sits down to relax in front of a television or movie, or dives deep into family photos expecting to put in reflection and time.

Of course, certain visual media break this convention. Painting and photography are obvious examples, but the choice of vertical vs. horizontal seems to have a non-transparent effect. Vertical paintings may not seem as serene, or as demanding of attention. What do tall photographs do? On some level, they resemble a page in a book or a newspaper article more than a screen. So do they raise the same kind of response one gets from sitting down in front of a TV? Or are they more of a window and a mirror?

And then of course there is YouTube, which is doing an excellent job of destroying the “pausing” experience of horizontal media. The convergence of all these things on the web, and soon enough on all the screens we interact with, is transforming the proportions that signal to us how to consume content. No wonder the Iphone flip-flops between the vertical and horizontal.

Also, what about non-Western languages?