The Genius of Paul Rand

The opening of the exhibition, “Everything is Design: The Work of Paul Rand,” at the Museum of the City of New York led me to reflect on Paul’s life and work. Paul Rand was one of the leading designers of the 20th century. He brought a fine arts perspective to graphic design and helped to significantly elevate the quality of the profession. There is a powerful mix of simplicity, restraint, and at times, whimsy in his work that makes it especially memorable. He also taught design at Yale and authored many books, including A Designer’s Art, which is how I came across Paul when I read it in the 1980s.

Paul is well known for his many corporate logos—ABC, UPS, Westinghouse, NeXT Computer, and our own logo at Morningstar. I was fortunate to convince Paul to take on our logo assignment in 1991 when Morningstar was just a small company.

I was impressed with Paul’s work and design philosophy after I read A Designer’s Art. In 1990, as a six-year-old company, we started to get serious about design. We wanted to create products for investors that were beautifully designed and helped investors distill massive amounts of data into reports that were clear and easy to understand. I knew a revamp of our design program had to begin with our logo. So who better to call on than Paul Rand?

I called a few designers in New York to track him down. The first response I received was “Paul Rand? Isn’t he dead?” (He was 77 at the time.) But I persevered. I eventually found him at his home in Weston, Connecticut. He answered the phone in a gruff voice: “I’m busy now. Call me back in a month.” An odd approach to customer service, but I wanted Paul, so I dutifully waited a month.

I called again and got the same response. I could see where this was going. So I said, “How about if I fly out to meet with you?” Instantly, his whole manner changed. He was pleasant and agreed to meet me. He later told me he received many calls for logo assignments, but no one ever followed up or came to see him. So that made the difference.

I flew to Connecticut and spent a wonderful morning with Paul in his home. He had a beautiful, art-filled home with floor-to-ceiling windows on a wooded lot. It was snowy outside, and we sat at his dining room table as his wife Marion came in occasionally to refill our coffee.

Our conversation focused on art and design. He recommended I read John Dewey’s Art as Experience. He was critical of IBM for its approach to design. He showed me various works of his that were never implemented, like a new Ford logo. He wasn’t a fan of decisions by committee. It was a lively, wide-ranging conversation. But I found it curious he never asked me about Morningstar.

When we were wrapping up, he said, “Morningstar….you’ve got a ‘g’, an ‘s’...I’ll get back to you when I’m done.” I then told him I had two requirements. First, I wanted the logo and the word Morningstar to be one thing—like Coca-Cola’s logo—and not a mark plus the word Morningstar. He groused about that but finally agreed. Second, I told him I knew he designed many great logos, but Morningstar was really important to me—my life’s work—and I wanted him to promise he’d give me his best work. He groused about that, too, but finally said he’d do his best.

As we were walking out, I thought I should ask about his fee. “What are your revenues?” he responded without hesitation. I told him our sales were between $1 million and $2 million. “That’ll be $50,000. Half upfront.” He was a shrewd businessman, too. I immediately agreed, knowing it’d be a worthwhile investment because a great logo is hugely valuable and the cost should really be spread over many years.

I went back to Chicago and waited. And waited. Our head of marketing asked me when the logo was going to be ready because a new Morningstar catalogue was in production. I knew from reading Paul’s book—there’s a part about good clients—that clients shouldn’t bother the artist. Let him or her work.

But after several months, I broke down and gave him a call. He was in a good mood and said he was glad I called—he had just finished the logo the day before. He spent months—and filled several books—with logos with stars in them, playing off the word Morningstar. But then he remembered where the name Morningstar came from. It’s from the last line of Thoreau’s Walden, “The sun is but a morning star.” After recalling the origin of the name, he said he got the logo instantly—a rising sun in place of the “o” in Morningstar.

Paul didn’t present his finished work to clients. Instead, he created a booklet that illustrated his design journey with the logo. At the end is a gatefold that unfolds the new logo. He said he’d overnight the booklet.

It was a beautiful, handcrafted booklet that began with the old logo and illustrated the evolution in his thinking until he arrived at the final logo. On the cover of the booklet, Paul attached a note: “Joe, here is my best work ever—with 11 letters. —Paul Rand.”

Paul was very concerned that after he designed our logo “some hack” would make a mess of its use. I knew from reading his books that a logo becomes great when people see it many times in many different formats. But it must be used in a consistent manner and in the right way.

So I asked his advice on getting design help. He said I was in luck. His teaching colleague from Yale, Philip Burton, had just taken an assignment at the University of Illinois at Chicago. So I called Philip, and he agreed to help. That conversation began a long and important relationship with Philip.

Philip led us to David Williams, who at the time was heading design at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago. David and Philip have led design at Morningstar ever since and helped establish design as one of our core competencies. It’s something we consider in every aspect of our business, from our workspace design to how we present information and how people interact with our products. So Paul was responsible not only for our logo, but for our design leadership. He cared passionately about creating great work and ensuring we used it properly. Sadly, Paul died in 1996. He was a giant in the world of design, and we at Morningstar owe him much.