Today I’d like to talk about some of the darker aspects of the design profession. Blood, sweat, ink, broken pixels and all.
Blood and broken pixels — this kind of sums up my mood today.
That could be a good band name.
You know, I actually have a list like that. I’ve been keeping it for a few years, though I haven’t updated it in a while. It’s called ‘Encyclopedia of punk band names ,’ and it’s full of these kinds of fun phrases.
Why do blood and broken pixels feel right for today?
Well, first off, it’s Friday. I’m feeling pretty tired, but in a good way, in a sense that’s even enjoyable. I can feel my own hefty contribution of pixels, sweat, and yes, blood too. It’s both unsettling and energising. That’s just my mood today.
How do your Fridays normally go? Were there any particularly bad ones you remember?
Oh, there definitely have been, but not right now. Nowadays, Fridays are more like the end of a marathon. It’s like a five-day race, where by Friday I’m almost crawling across the finish line, but I still feel like I’ve covered a significant distance and that I’ve trained and invested in it. There’s physical fatigue, but no emotional or psychological frustration. It’s great to reach Friday feeling like you’ve done everything in your power.
Is this a new feeling for you?
Maybe this particular athletic sense is new. I think only in recent years in my design work have I learned to approach the process in a healthier way — planning, calculating recovery gaps. At the same time, not being too soft on myself. If you set a goal, you’ll have to sweat for it. I think early on I didn’t fully understand this was even possible. There was a lot of chaos, constant or recurring, where I couldn’t even tell if it was Friday or the end of the day.
Do you think this is a common issue in the design profession — that people are taught how to design but not how to manage their energy?
I wouldn’t speak for everyone, but I can definitely say there’s such a tendency in my generation. We weren’t taught this, it wasn’t a thing. Many of my colleagues of my age have encountered this issue. Looking at the younger generation I can say they are much wiser in this respect, more careful and gentle with themselves. I teach a lot, and we have many young designers on our team who’ve just graduated from university. Within that circle I see that young designers now are more organised and mindful. I don’t think it’s just a design field thing, but rather a societal shift, and it’s a great trend.
Do you think this shift is due to global changes in the world rather than changes within the design profession?
I think so, yes. For me, as a child of the ‘90s, the survival mindset was very relevant. You didn’t ask for help, you didn’t even know what boundaries were. You just knew you needed a piece of something, be it bread or success, and you had to hunt for it. Now, practices like setting boundaries have become more public and normalised. People absorb them from the media, their environment and friends. I think it’s amazing and it helps young people figure out who they are and how to take care of themselves, how to pace themselves better.
Now, as an art director, do you feel responsible for your team in this respect?
I’m still relatively new in this role. I’ve only been taking on projects as an art director for the last six months to a year. Personally, I pay a lot of attention to the team’s emotional check-ins and overall well-being. But no matter what I’d still allow people to make mistakes. It’s hard to prevent, and I know from my own experience that you have to try everything yourself.
Whether I’m teaching or art directing, I’d rather offer emotional support, no matter what the person chooses to do. But I’m also thinking about how it affects the overall process and how to make sure it doesn’t disrupt the project. So there are two main pillars — project goals which are always the priority, and caring for the emotional and psychological state of the team which is also super important to me.
I’d like people to talk more about how they’re feeling. Even though it might be bad news for the project, I appreciate it when people in a work environment don’t impose a strict divide between themselves and their work. I’ve realised that kind of division is a really bad thing. You need to let some of yourself into your work and some of your work into yourself, to a certain extent. If you build a wall between those two worlds, I think you’ll end up losing one of them.
Does Alena-the-designer ever end?
No, I don’t think she ever does. You know why? Because I chose this profession precisely because it’s about everything. When I think about how to make dinner, I’m using my design skills too.
I always feel like I have a design layout of something that I’m working toward, whether it’s a weekend getaway, a soup, a small creative project or moving to another country. Design practice largely involves seeing a picture and figuring out how to get there— considering all the inputs, external and internal, the obligations and desires. In that sense I feel like I never stop being a designer. I love it, it gives me energy.
How is professional deformation reflected in your personal, non-work life?
Maybe it shows up in how I over-engineer certain things and set tasks for myself where I really don’t need a project plan. Like, for example, trying to strengthen a friendship. Also it’s hard for me to relax when things don’t go according to plan. But life experience, meditation, and other practices have helped me accept and let go when things don’t go as expected. Incidentally, that skill is also super useful in design.
At some point, you have to loosen your grip a little because relationships, design, everything you do, eventually start to take on a life of its own. If you don’t let that happen, nothing will come of it. I’m really practicing that now in art direction. Not just doing everything myself but also watching how the work of a super-team can evolve. It’s a balance of control.
It seems like you’ve reached a harmonious perception of design. Were there any failures along the way?
I think there were plenty. For several years of my career I went through a serious crisis where I thought I would never work in design again. When I was studying graphic design I was terribly disappointed with everything going on. So immediately after graduation I switched to UX, more product-focused design. I thought that field had answers to all my questions. You have data, research, you work with that. There’s no need to ask, ‘Is this beautiful or not?’. The research tells you everything.
Now I look back at that with a sad smile. On the one hand, if I hadn’t turned so sharply away from that direction, I would have more skills and experience now. But on the other hand, I dove into an area that felt completely understandable to me at the time. After working there for about 7-8 years I realised something was missing. I missed being the person who likes to reflect, to talk about strange abstract things, to create meaning. That boundary we talked about earlier between the personal and professional — it really took hold. There was me, the philosophical, reflective, emotional person, and then there was the strict designer cranking out interfaces with precision. That imbalance almost led me to a complete breakdown!
It sounds like an identity crisis. What helped you bring it all back together into one person?
Now comes the studio placement — cue native advertising! — joining ESH. I was able to apply my expertise while observing how the team created branding and how I could be part of that process. I saw how the meaning embedded in the branding could be developed further, including through interfaces. I think that’s what healed me and helped me.
Plus, teaching also helped. It gave me the chance to communicate a lot with people, to share, make mistakes and learn. So all of it combined helped me get out of that crisis.
How do you handle criticism? What was your experience with it at ESH?
Criticism from the team was always gentle and constructive. It was impossible to feel hurt by it. In that context it never even crossed your mind that something was wrong with you. It was just the pixels in this particular situation that needed adjusting. It’s a pretty straightforward thing. Magical experience.
Have you had experiences with more destructive criticism?
When I first moved to Moscow, I was looking for any kind of work, and I had a few experiences back-to-back with companies where the criticism was completely demotivating. It made you not want to do anything at all. I think a lot of it comes down to trust, whether or not it’s there. If it is, then you’re more open to receiving criticism because you trust the person’s opinion. My negative experiences with criticism often came from not understanding what was expected of me. I remember an office where we had to crank out small commercial websites, one per day — nightmare! But I’d say that the presence or absence of trust was the deciding factor.
You’re talking about the dynamics of trust among colleagues, but those relationships aren’t always warm. In your opinion, what negative emotions are acceptable in a team?
I think a little irritation when working in a design team is totally fine. It’s okay to have a little fight if needed. When someone comments on something that’s especially important to you in the project, it’s natural to feel irritated. I think it’s really important to legitimise those kinds of uncomfortable feelings for yourself. You’re all designers, and everyone has their own opinion. Plus, when working with designers, you also learn the skill of arguing or defending your vision. Because at some point, you learn not to stay silent if you think something isn’t valid in a given situation. And that’s another great experience if trust is there — it’s super important.
How do you handle pressure?
I’m still figuring that out because this conversation has caught me right in the middle of exploring how I deal with pressure, whether I push too hard or not enough. I think it’s very therapeutic, the way you react to pressure or exert it is a chance to explore yourself and others and understand how the world works.
When I feel like I’ve either pushed too hard or held back, and it didn’t work out, of course, I get upset. I’m a very emotional person in general. I can be sitting in my kitchen over dinner, feeling really upset about something work-related. But in a way, that helps me release the pressure.
In the work environment, though, your task is to quickly learn from it and not dwell on it. You ask yourself, ‘Did I push because I was anxious about a deadline?’ Then it’s worth considering whether anxiety can ever actually help you work. A major insight for me has been not letting anxiety dictate what you do. And my wonderful colleagues help me with this too.
Who do you talk to about these observations? Colleagues, friends?
I’m really lucky that I can share how I feel about certain decisions with many colleagues. It’s awesome, and I learned that at ESH too. If something emotional is affecting me, I can share it. I have amazing, experienced colleagues who can give me advice on what went wrong and share their experience.
Beyond that, I talk a lot with my husband. It’s our evening tradition to discuss who made what decisions that day and what the outcomes were. And with friends — I love hearing about interesting experiences outside of my work team.
Where and how do you recharge when your pixels get defective?
Definitely in a banya (Russian sauna). It’s a lifelong love, no matter where I am. The most important way for me to recover is to spend time in nature, or at least outside. Ideally, hiking in the mountains from morning till late at night. If I’ve spent eight to ten hours hiking in the mountains, I can come back and embrace those pixels with such love that the meaning that motivates my work returns.
I also really enjoy other pixel-based practices that aren’t directly related to work — where you assemble something piece by piece in a specific context, very meditative. And of course, my cats, Dmitry Fedorovich and Rimbaud Arturovich — or just Mitya and Rembosha.
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This interview is part of the documentary project Insights about the people of the ESH design studio. The interview was conducted by Polina Drozhkova.
More information about the project can be found on the website insights.eshgruppa.com.
