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This is Part 1 in a 4 part series titled What is Wayfinding? Check the blog next week for Part 2: The City as a Model.

What is Wayfinding? It’s a simple question that seems like it should yield a fairly simple explanation. And yet it is hardly so. Webster’s dictionary doesn’t list ‘wayfinding’ as a known term. As recently as 2015, the Oxford English Dictionary added “Wayfinding” to their word bank, defining it as, ‘The act of finding one’s way to a particular place; navigation.’  The Society for Experiential Graphic Design, or SEGD, says “Wayfinding refers to information systems that guide people through a physical environment and enhance their understanding and experience of the space.” Historically, this has been the space of signage and many people think of wayfinding and signage as synonymous. But in a broader context wayfinding should be considered in all the disciplines – architecture, interiors, landscape, lighting, and yes, signage and graphics. But the graphics, the sign system, the information systems, those are just the tip of the iceberg. In fact, if the iceberg is built with wayfinding in mind, then the tip might be just barely visible above the waterline. In this four part series we will take a deep dive in search of the meaning of wayfinding – what it means today and what it may come to mean in the future.

Although the Wikipedia definition includes the orientation and navigation of all creatures, we’ll focus on how human beings use wayfinding in an attempt to define it more clearly. At heart, wayfinding is a system of elements working in concert to provide assistance. The goal of any wayfinding design system should be to aid the user in orienting themselves in a space and then in navigating to a specific destination. In Polynesian cultures, that meant navigating the open ocean by careful observation of the stars and planets. An article from National Geographic describes how, with these few consistent and organized cues from the environment, the Polynesians were able to successfully navigate thousand of miles of the Pacific Ocean long before the existence of GPS or even maps, for that matter. The celestial bodies and their relationship to Earth was decoded by these ancient wayfarers who then used their knowledge to navigate an unforgiving environment where getting lost carried with it the ultimate consequence. Theirs was a situation in which safety (and the ability to return to land) was paramount – the fundamental purpose of wayfinding was safety, which brought with it the confidence to venture out – to leave the island in search of something more.

Thousands of years later, the same basic human needs are still at play. Abraham Maslow is best known for his 1943 paper, “A Theory of Human Motivation,” where he establishes and outlines the five basic human needs. He organized the five principles into a pyramid with each layer relying on the presence of the layer below it. The base layer of Maslow’s pyramid is Physiological Needs – food, water, warmth, rest. With those established, humans can move to the next layer; Safety. These two first layers represent the basic human requirements. After that, Love and Belonging (intimate relationships and friends) and Esteem (prestige and feeling of accomplishment) constitute the Psychological layers of human need. The last portion of the pyramid is Self-Actualization where creative activities and the realization of one’s full potential can be realized. In design, this pyramid of need must be accounted for as these principles are driving forces connecting people to place. And when people feel connected to a place they feel fulfilled and are more likely to return.

At RSM Design, we’ve reinterpreted Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs in the context of the built environment – we call it Certainty, Variety and Delight. It’s a way to plan, design, and implement a host of features and elements in a project and the application of them satisfies all three layers of Maslow’s pyramid. Every day we rely on architecture, signs, landscape, landmarks, lighting, and a host of other cues from the built environment to assure us that, first and foremost, our basic human needs are being addressed. By feeling confident about the safety of our surroundings we’re able to relax – there’s a certainty to it that makes us feel comfortable. With Certainty, one can let their guard down, begin to decipher the layout of the environment, notice the landmarks, the signs and begin to understand the space. Many aspects of a project bring Certainty to the experience – architecture, lighting. Sign systems, often called wayfinding signage systems, provide a great deal of it. These systems identify uses and direct traffic. Maps, arrows and labels all provide Certainty. They decipher the environment for the observer.

Once Certainty covers the basic needs, Variety steps in to keep things interesting and begins to address the needs of Maslow’s Psychological layers. Variety may be used to establish the prestige or authenticity of an environment and can be expressed as shifts in color, pattern or texture which may denote zones or neighborhoods and serve to break the overall experience into smaller, more human-sized chunks. Features in the Variety classification can add color, visual interest, or meaning to the experience. When used hand in hand with Certainty, Variety also aids in the cognitive mapping of an environment – it’s another layer of memory. The third classification is Delight, which is just that; delightful experiences along the way – like a sculpture or a mural – which add to the overall wayfinding experience in more subtle ways. These points of interest can act as landmarks or come to symbolize a node. They usually inform the personality of the place and often bring with them culture, history, and education.

Maslow’s theory and our application of it to Certainty, Variety and Delight begin to define wayfinding from a viewpoint of need – effectively answering the question of ‘What is it?’ to ‘Why do we need it anyways?’

In the next chapter of the series we will look at the modern city as a model for organizing and engineering a wayfinding system.

Last week I was in Cartagena, Colombia to attend the International Council of Shopping Centers (ICSC) annual conference focusing on Latin America and the Caribbean. It was enlightening to be a part of conversations that recognized that retail is not dead, as one might believe from the North American press. Across many different lectures and presentations there were a few consistent themes that resonated amongst the international roster of speakers: retail is in a renaissance, convergence of digital and brick & mortar retail, omnichannel retailing, transformation, evolution, and the curated experience.

It was also encouraging to see examples of how retail projects within Latin America truly have evolved to become centers of the community and mixed-use environments that are important destinations and gathering places within these communities. The line appears to blur between commercial importance and civic responsibility. This convergence of uses and experiences is also seen in the blurred lines of the digital retail experience and the physical retail experience of the traditional brick and mortar stores. Both Neil Stern of McMillan|Doolittle and Skyler Fernandes  of Venture University had interesting talks on the blurred lines of the two platforms citing many examples of how retail is transitioning….from retail to hospitality with a Muji Hotel in Shenzhen, retail showrooms such as B8ta in Santa Monica, renting clothes from Le Tote, and having breakfast at Tiffany’s in New York.

Bad retail is dying. Good retail is thriving and is incredibly exciting. It’s a fascinating time to be in the middle of this inevitable transition in the industry and see how experiential retail is creating some engaging and creative mash-ups. Retail has always changed and this evolution is just a part of the natural cycle of our consumer-based economy. It was interesting to learn that 60% of the people in Latin America are below 37 years old and it’s great to be observing how the retail industry is evolving to cater to Millennials, and Generations X, Y, and Z.

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Studying for my architecture undergraduate degree there were countless books that influenced (and continue to influence) my way of thinking about architecture, space, and design… Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture (Venturi), For an Architecture of Reality (Benedikt), Towards a New Architecture (Le Corbusier), Silence and Light (Kahn), Invisible Cities (Calvino), In Praise of Shadows (Tanizaki), and so many others.

However, there was one influential book that helped shaped my ability to represent my designs... Architectural Graphics, the classic bestselling reference by Francis D.K. Ching. Originally published in 1974 and now in its sixth edition, it continues to introduce and influence the fundamentals of graphic and design communication. The architectural graphic conventions outlined in the book informed my design process and served as a guide to see a design conveyed and built. Along with the go-to reference book on building design and construction known as the “architect’s bible” or Architectural Graphic Standards (American Institute of Architects, 12th edition) I was all set to branch out into the design profession.

Fast forward a few decades later and I find myself working and creating at an exciting crossroads… the intersection of architecture and graphic design. My attitude and definition of the term architectural graphic design has changed quite a bit since Francis D.K. Ching, and I have found myself redefining what the relationship of architecture and graphics is all about and practicing a different form of architectural graphic design… one that engages the third dimension.

Our studio, RSM Design, was founded in 1997 using the term “environmental graphic design” because we loved seeing how graphic design could shape and influence the physical environment in the built realm, and most importantly how graphics influenced the people using the spaces and making the places. The term “environmental graphic design” has always been an obtuse term and one that is still being defined and ill-defined by many. Over time the use of “environmental” has been referenced more for its ecological and natural uses, rather than the physical setting or surrounding, making it even more difficult to associate environmental with graphics. “No, we do not do ‘green’ sustainable graphics,” I have found myself saying when describing what it is that our studio creates.

While I do not know the reasoning why, I did find it curious when a few years ago the professional organization of the Society of Environmental Graphic Design dropped “environmental” to now become the Society for Experiential Graphic Design. Is this new term any less obtuse than the original? I contend that what our studio is practicing and investigating is how integrated graphic design can symbiotically relate to architecture, hence redefining the term “architectural graphic design.”

With the recent passing of the influential Robert Venturi, I have again reconsidered the relationship of graphic design and architecture and wanted to understand and redefine how to interpret architectural graphic design.  In the book he co-authored with Denise Scott Brown and Steven Izenour forty-six years ago, Learning from Las Vegas, the “decorated shed” relies on imagery, signage, and graphics to convey its program, in contrast with the “duck” that expresses the program and meaning thru the building’s form. The architectural graphic designs clearly become an integral part of the building’s commercial character and there becomes a new focus on the architecture of the everyday. Today, the commercial character and culture is more powerful and pervasive than ever.

As relevant as commercial architectural graphic design is to buildings and places today, it did not begin with the conversation initiated by Venturi. The disciplines of architecture and graphic design have lived harmoniously and symbiotically together for a long time. Architectural graphic design is not new. It has been around for centuries but only relatively recently have been recognized as an important component of the project narrative. Whether through hieroglyphics, classical inscriptions, façade stenciling (Otto Wagner in Vienna), strong building identities (PSFS Building in Philadelphia), and many other relevant examples, the two disciplines work together to create a cohesive narrative (or “story”) of the building and the way the visitor interacts with it. This marriage is not confined to buildings alone, but also manifests itself in civic spaces and urban places where signage, wayfinding, and art combine to create richness, character, functionality, and engagement.

Architecture speaks of space, form, place, and function while integrated architectural graphic design communicates a building’s function, purpose, message, and narrative. Effective and appropriate architectural graphic designs support the statement made by a building and strengthen its presence. The graphics layered into the conversation derive from the architectural context, spatial context, cultural context, and historical context to which they relate. They are not independent nor superficial. The architectural graphic designs have meaning, form, function, and purpose… similar to the architecture. Whether these architectural graphic designs are woven into the building or space through identity signage, wayfinding signage, specialty features, or graphic embellishments, there is an open dialogue that mutually benefits one another. The inclusion of the architectural graphic designs creates a strong sense of place, fulfills human needs, helps users find their way, and communicates a building’s narrative, fostering a strong conversation between the person and place.

As environments, buildings, and spaces are crafted there are many unique disciplines that play a role in their overall success. The profession’s design process has to be multidisciplinary and collaborative, now more than ever. Important elements such as lighting, mechanical, structural, and landscape need to be joined by architectural graphic design as an equally important layer. The American Institute of Architects has twenty-one Knowledge Communities that work to share information and create connections that advance the profession. It’s time to make architectural graphic design the twenty-second conversation within this community.

So, let’s rethink the relationship of architecture and graphic design and what the term “architectural graphic design” refers to. Move away from the two-dimensional references of architectural representation and weave graphics more deliberately into the vocabulary of the building profession as a necessary component. The relationship of architecture and graphic design should now become a symbiotic and necessary alliance that will orient, inform, and delight. Architectural graphic design can make a difference.

We’ve all been places we love and want to return to again and again. These spaces are exciting and engaging and they elicit a positive emotional reaction. At RSM Design, we have made our name designing the places that people love. Our work is deeply rooted in the user experience and we deem a project “successful” when people choose to spend time in the places we have a hand in creating.

The philosophy behind creating these experiences centers around placemaking. Placemaking refers to a collaborative process between us and the communities we serve with the end goal of creating a space that is authentic, engaging, and creative.

Places thrive when people have a range of reasons to visit, and we refer to this as the Power of 10. Every place should have at least 10 features that draw people in– whether it’s a cozy place to sit, a fun spot to meet friends, or an interesting attraction to observe. From small scale to large scale, these considerations make the difference between a spot that people simply pass through and a location that becomes an integral part of the community. These ten ideas branch out of just environmental graphics and include all disciplines that go into making outstanding public spaces, from landscape and architecture to developers and city planners.

1. A SENSE OF ARRIVAL

Knowing you’ve arrived at your destination is the first step in experiencing a space. This sense of arrival can be a huge, iconic gateway, such as the monument and arch at the Tustin Legacy, or a more subtle gesture such as different colored signage for every district in a master plan. Regardless of the scale, it should be clear to visitors that they have arrived where they meant to navigate to. This “a-ha!” moment is not only practical in the sense that it announces the beginning of a place, but it is an opportunity to mark the start of a brand experience that will be carried into and throughout the entire project.

2. THE HUMAN SCALE

Walking into a big space can be intimidating. Without signage or landmarks to help guide you, it can be easy to feel lost and confused. Humanizing the spaces we work in by focusing on the micro-scale inside of the macro-space has a profound effect on not only logistical wayfinding but also in creating spaces that are engaging and fun. Visitors will be able to discover a new surprise every time they walk through. It also provides an opportunity to spice up even the dullest parts of a project, like lamp posts, back entrances, water fountains, parking garages, or restrooms.

3. WHAT’S THAT SMELL?

Engaging senses outside of sight can be a valuable asset to a project. It’s common knowledge these days that scent can play a big part in affecting our mood (see: the rise in popularity of essential oil diffusers) and some developers have begun to take that into consideration in the planning of their projects.  RSM Design worked on the Hotel Zaza in Houston, Texas where the owner reached out to the luxury fragrance maker, La Labo, to engineer on of their scents, Santal 33, to be diffused throughout the hotel via the air vents. In this case, the scent was used to invoke a sense of luxe, but smell can also be used to relax, energize, or make us hungry (we’re looking at you, Cinnabon). Even utilizing plants like lavender in the landscape of outdoor spaces can help solidify the memory of a space in visitor’s minds.

4. MUSIC AS A DRIVER

Music and sound plays such a vital role in our everyday life. Even used in a subtle way, the right music can drive shoppers to stay longer in a store or restaurant. There are even services, such as Noon Pacific, which have begun specially curating playlists for public spaces and businesses to help drive activity. Even the soothing sound of a fountain can transform a typical shopping experience into a relaxing afternoon. While music can be a driver to attract visitors to a space, it can also be used subtly to deter certain activities from taking place. The managers at a retail property RSM Design worked on in Irvine found that after working hours, the public spaces around the building were being used for illicit activity, creating an unsafe environment and causing damage to the property. They began playing classical music outside the building overnight, and the activity stopped. It’s just not “cool” to break the law to Mozart!

5. “MY BENCH”

In many classical Costa Rican town centers, you can survey the area and see a plethora of different benches and seating options. While from a design perspective it may be more aesthetic to have a set of the same benches, from a wayfinding and placemaking perspective, RSM Design has found that a variety of benches makes it easier for people to identify their location and feel connected to a space. Finding “your bench,” or the one place you know you can always have a seat and know where you are.

6. SHADE

Shade can be easily planned into an outdoor space from just about any design discipline. From architectural awnings and canopies, to shade trees and umbrellas, there are so many ways to ensure that people are comfortable sitting and walking in the outdoors. RSM Design has worked on a number of projects where environmental graphics were directed to include shade. We have designed shaded wayfinding directories, patterns for glass awnings, and interventions such as playful canopies for parks, artful installations with shade, even bus stops that include overhead graphics.

7. SECURITY

Accounting for security in a space can mean something different to everyone. For some, having good lighting at night means the difference between feeling able to walk home and deciding to call a ride. Walking to your car in the depths of an underground parking garage can be made to feel much more inviting if the walls are painted a light color. Having clear directions and a safe way to navigate a larger area can turn a confusing and stressful journey into an exciting adventure. Even touches as simple as clear and legible regulatory signage can help visitors feel safe in case of emergency.

8. QUIET MOMENTS

The hustle and bustle of a crowded public space can be draining for some people. Although it’s rare to plan a space dedicated to solitary activities, it’s important to set aside some areas where it’s easy to sit down, take a breath, and have a quiet moment to yourself. These interventions can be anything from seating with a nice view, or a pond with beautiful greenery around it. Landscaping, fluid forms, even comfortable seating or calming music can create a sense of serenity within the chaos of a crowded space.

9. SHARED SPACES

When we think about creating a “shared” space, we consider two main angles. The first is the physical space and how different people from many parties and places will be able to co-inhabit the space. Designing a space that help communities bond over a shared experience not only breeds relationships and a sense of closeness, but also leads to the second angle of sharing– social media. Creating spaces designed to be shared on social media is a new phenomenon with the advent of Instagram and other photo-based platforms. When visitors post images and videos of themselves enjoying a project, it in turn drives more people to come and experience the project for themselves.

10. TURN THE ORDINARY INTO THE EXTRAORDINARY

Probably the most exciting part of our job as environmental graphic designers is the opportunity to turn ordinary, every experiences into something extraordinary. These moments can be big or small; an empty plaza can be made exciting by putting a huge dancing fountain in the middle of it, or a water fountain can have a nautical-inspired pattern on the splash tile; transforming light poles into yarn-bombed works of art, or putting inspirational quotes and images on the wall of a parking garage. Anything from bike racks, garbage bins, building facades, and regulatory signage is fair game for a little bit of fun, and these moments of delight are what help create memorable and lasting moments for visitors.