“I REMEMBER THIS ONE TIME WITH STEVEN HELLER...”

BY ALIXANDRA RUTNIK ON AUG 05, 2024

Get to know our Creative Hall of Fame laureates with stories from their friends and colleagues

The Creative Hall of Fame has a rich history dating back 60 years that has honored more than 225 men and women in advertising, design, branding, illustration, photography, typography, and education. And this September 5, we will be adding nine more incredible individuals to that list, alongside recognizing the Type Directors Club’s TDC Medalist. You’ll want to grab your tickets and tables today!

In celebrating these nine inductees, we wanted to move away from simply posting their work and many accomplishments, and instead get the inside scoop from their friends and colleagues. We gave them each the prompt “I remember this one time when...” and encouraged them to share stories from the laureates’ pasts. They could be funny, poignant, a little bit embarrassing — or even all three!

With only three laureates left to be featured, the prolific author, Steven Heller is next, and the previous six soon-to-be-creative-hall-of-famers can be found here. In addition to penning 200+ books, Steven is a well-known art director, journalist, and educator. He will be inducted into the Educators Hall of Fame alongside Deborah Morrison and Archie Boston Jr., for co-founding the MFA Design: Designer As Entrepreneur program at the School of Visual Arts in NYC. He is also a partner and editor at Printmag.com, where he writes The Daily Heller Newsletter. 

You will love these stories Steve’s students and peers have shared about him!

DEBRA BISHOP DESIGN DIRECTOR, THE NEW YORK TIMES FOR KIDS

I remember this one time when I was a young designer working at Rolling Stone, Steve was the first person to write a glowing review about my work. I wasn’t the top Art Director so it really meant something to me to be acknowledged. I’ve never forgotten how thrilling it was to see my magazine design alongside his intro talking about why he liked the piece. It gave me confidence that I had never known.

Steve supports young talent. If you were a young illustrator, for instance, Steve was the person you would go see to get your very first illustration published in The New York Times book review.

When I first started teaching in Steve’s SVA/MFAD program he would come to the class and guest critique. I was completely terrified of course but humbled and inspired by Steve’s ability to analyze, so very quickly, what each student was doing right. He taught me to focus on what’s working. Alternatively, Steve is brilliantly critical, funny, and sometimes sarcastic both in his writing and in person.

He is everyone’s champion — the ultimate design enthusiast. His words, “I write so I can further discover and share what I’ve learned with others.” He is possibly the last (if not the only) great Graphic Design critic in the world —truly one of a kind.

“He is possibly the last (if not the only) great Graphic Design critic in the world —truly one of a kind.”

DEBBIE MILLMAN PODCAST HOST, DESIGN MATTERS

I don’t have one story to tell about Steve Heller, I have 100. Maybe 200. Maybe more. But I can certainly share my favorite.

My friendship with Steve began 20 years ago after I received a surprise email from Joyce Rutter Kaye, then editor-in-chief of PRINT Magazine. She was writing to invite me to participate in an event with the publication. This is what she wrote:

Hi there, Next year, PRINT will have a track at the HOW Conference in Seattle we are calling “Ironic Chef.” It will be a riff on the Food Network show “Iron Chef” and we want to have designers create work on the spot that the audience will evaluate and vote on. Would you like to participate?

Despite my fear of having to design on demand, I was afraid of turning Joyce down. I worried she wouldn’t ask me to do anything with PRINT ever again, and I was desperate to write for the magazine. I agreed to do it and with much trepidation went armed to the conference with two shoeboxes filled with colored pencils. All along my journey to Seattle, I kept telling myself it couldn’t be that bad.

It was actually worse. Given Joyce wanted to do a riff on the show Iron Chef, when I got to San Diego I was informed I would have to wear a chef’s outfit on stage. Complete with a genuine toque blanche.

After arriving at the event, I was introduced to the other contestants, the emcee, and the judge, Steven Heller. I was a huge fan of Steve’s– I had read many of his books but had never met him. I was terribly intimidated, but Steve was really kind to me. He knew I was scared and encouraged me throughout the rounds of design improvisations. My work was by far the worst, but he let me come in second. I didn’t win but I didn’t lose. I was so thankful, and in an aberrant moment of courage, I asked Steve if he would have lunch with me when we returned to New York City. By some miracle, he agreed.

Shortly after that lunch, Steve recommended me to one of his publishers to write my first book, which came out in 2007. Later that year, he invited me to join him in creating the world’s first Master’s degree program in branding at the School of Visual Arts, which we launched in 2010.

“Shortly after that lunch, Steve recommended me to one of his publishers to write my first book, which came out in 2007.”

In the last twenty years, Steve has become my mentor and my very dear friend. Steve’s kindness and generosity have changed the trajectory of my life, and I am just one of hundreds (literally) of people who have benefited from Steve’s help and magnanimity. I know I can speak for all of them when I say we are all so grateful.

GAIL ANDERSON DESIGN & ADVERTISING CHAIR, SCHOOL OF VISUAL ARTS

Years ago—and I’m talking 35+ years back—Steve Heller and I worked on a book called Graphic Wit, our first together. I would meet him at 7 AM at his office at The New York Times and we’d review the materials I received from contributors. I sat across from Steve’s wonderfully cluttered desk, feverishly taking notes from the master. What Steve didn’t know was that I had no idea what he was talking about at least 50% of the time. And since these were pre-cellphone, pre-internet days, I’d have to race to my office at Rolling Stone and pour through our design books to try to make sense of his words. Luckily, since our meetings typically ended by 7:30, I had plenty of time before my workday started at 10:00.

“ What Steve didn’t know was that I had no idea what he was talking about at least 50% of the time. And since these were pre-cellphone, pre-internet days, I’d have to race to my office at Rolling Stone and pour through our design books to try to make sense of his words.”

BRIAN E. SMITH DESIGN DIRECTOR, SCHOOL OF VISUAL ARTS

I remember a particular moment from my time as a student in the MFA Design program at the School of Visual Arts, where Steve was co-chair. During one of his lectures, a classmate challenged Steve on an issue, pointing out what seemed like a contradictory stance. Steve responded, “If it seems like I’m talking out of both sides of my mouth, it’s because I am.” This admission was eye-opening for me. It made me realize that it’s not always necessary to take sides on an issue. As younger individuals, we often lack the ability to see the shades of gray where most of the truth lies. Unfortunately, many adults also lack this ability, despite having more evolved brains.

Too often, popular culture explains things in black-and-white terms, and not taking sides is viewed as lacking conviction. For example, John Kerry was labeled a “flip-flopping” presidential candidate. The uninquisitive mind prefers simpler, neater opinions, and aligning oneself with a dogmatic ideal often feels more comfortable or “safe” than navigating the messy middle. But black-and-white thinking is often just a fantasy—a story we tell ourselves to feel more comfortable with our identities. Eastern philosophy offers a metaphor: a guitar string too loose won’t make a sound, and too tight, it will break. Only when it’s in the middle can it produce the sweet spot of musical notation.

Perhaps I’m attributing more to Steve’s phrase than he intended, but we all weave our experiences into personal narratives. Adding this piece of wisdom from Steve to my life’s ingredients has shaped a liberating viewpoint: to be open, flexible, and curious about different perspectives and ideals. It has taught me to avoid clinging to rigid, dogmatic viewpoints, especially when they start to define my identity. The ability to hold two opposing viewpoints simultaneously is a sign of maturity and intelligence. It encourages continual learning and prevents settling too confidently into any one idea.

As a teacher now, I consider this one of the greatest gifts Steve offered me. I hope that one day, I can have a similar impact on even one of my students.

“As a teacher now, I consider this one of the greatest gifts Steve offered me. I hope that one day, I can have a similar impact on even one of my students.”

MICHELE WASHINGTON DESIGN RESEARCHER, COFORMA

Our journey together started at The New York Times Book Review when I was a floating Art Director, and then continued when he was one of my professors in the Design Criticism Program at the School of Visual Arts. Steve was always so approachable, and for the most part very warm in class. Every class I’d walked in with cheerful greetings, and he’d respond with a pleasant, hello Michele. Something about greeting my professors always made my day.

Steve’s assignments were wonderfully quirky, sparking creativity and encouraging us to expand the boundaries of design, research, and writing. One assignment, in particular, has stayed with me over the years. We were tasked with buying inexpensive objects from a flea market or secondhand shop, emphasizing creativity over cost. I ventured to the flea markets in the 20s between Avenue of the Americas and Seventh Avenue. These markets, buzzing with activity on Sundays, were always exciting to explore. Among the tables was a treasure trove of goodies, and I stumbled upon a View-Master camera that instantly transported me back to my childhood.

“Steve’s assignments were wonderfully quirky, sparking creativity and encouraging us to expand the boundaries of design, research, and writing.”

For this project, Steve had an unconventional rule: no online research. While it seemed wacky at first, it turned out to be an incredibly fun and engaging way to gather information. This restriction pushed me to visit the New York Public Business Library, where I delved into the copyright history of the View-Master. A classmate tipped me off about a secondhand shop in Brooklyn that sold old View-Master cameras, adding another layer to my adventure.

My research journey also led me to the International Center of Photography Library, where I explored the rich history of View-Master cameras. The highlight was speaking with Charles (Chuck) Harrison, the industrial designer who had redesigned the View-Master for Sears and Roebuck. Chuck was incredibly generous with his time, sharing fascinating insights about his designs.

The final presentation was a somewhat nerve-wracking experience for me. We had just five minutes to impress a panel of critics, with no room for overruns. Steve was serious about cutting us off if we went over. One of the critics, an illustrator I knew from my magazine days, asked me a question that left me momentarily speechless. Nervousness got the better of me, and I didn't respond. Later that day, Steve gently reminded me via email that it was impolite to not respond to critics when they asked us questions. I was, of course, apologetic, and all was quickly forgiven.

Looking back, Steve’s unique approach to teaching and his quirky assignments not only made learning fun but also left a lasting impact on how I approach design and research.