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Danil Matlakhov: Staying Free, Ditching Comparisons, and Not Checking Out Emotionally

For Danil, fresh out of uni, design is more than just crafting visuals—it’s a journey of self-discovery, navigating criticism, and dreaming of freedom beyond the confines of the industry. Here, he opens up about the emotions, challenges, and aspirations shaping his early career.

How would you identify yourself in the design universe, who are you in that space?

This question has been the focus of my thoughts recently, especially this summer. Now that I’ve graduated from university, I have more time to reflect on it, although I still find it quite challenging. Not all of my conclusions have been pleasant. At the moment it feels like I don’t really know where I am. But I believe this phase will eventually lead to a place where I feel completely comfortable.

Yet you confidently call yourself a designer?

Yes. It’s more accurate to say that I’m only a designer. I’ve never considered myself anything else but a designer.

Is your professional disorientation related to not knowing which specific field you want to settle in? Are there other factors at play?

Right now, I’m engaging with various groups of designers, each with its own values and priorities. I’m trying to understand which group I belong to. These communities and subfields don’t always respect each other or avoid criticism of one another.

Have you ever found yourself projecting toxic criticism or contempt?

I guess I might have been the cause of such feelings in others. When my job involves evaluating work, I focus on the quality of the work itself, not the personal qualities of the designer. Sometimes you can tell from the layouts that the person rushed the work. There are mistakes that are hard to make if you’re being careful and thorough. In such cases I give feedback through a slightly subjective lens, especially if it happens repeatedly. I might get frustrated and feel like I need to make my point clear, thinking that the person might not be approaching the task in good faith.

When it comes to personal creativity where the designer’s individual style is evident, I avoid being overly critical. If I don’t like it, I’d rather keep quiet or simply acknowledge that we have different tastes.

When the criticism is aimed at you, what kind of feedback do you find acceptable or unacceptable? Would you prefer people to hold back if they don’t like your work?

My initial reaction to any criticism tends to be negative. I naturally think well of myself. I love myself and my design work. I always bring my work to a level where I can responsibly say it’s high quality. This helps me shield myself from unhelpful feedback, but it can also prevent me from listening to things that could actually be useful.

I believe no one else is obligated to love my work. I’m the one who should love it first before releasing it into the world. Others can give feedback, and it can be whatever it is, but it won’t matter if I don’t love what I’ve made.

Still, I want to grow and learn to distinguish feedback that helps me improve and take the valuable parts from it.

Can you elaborate on what you mean by ‘low-quality feedback’?

At the very least, it’s feedback that doesn’t maintain a professional tone. I’d like criticism to be framed like, ‘Everything is done according to the brief, but perhaps this is missing.’ That’s a neutral and constructive way of giving feedback. However, even recently, I’ve received messages along the lines of, ‘Who do you think I am? Am I a tester here to check if you missed something from the brief?’ That, to me, is the pinnacle of unacceptable behaviour. I don’t want to engage with toxic people who send such messages.

I’d also classify feedback given just for the sake of it as low-quality, like ‘Everything’s great, but move this two pixels.’ These comments don’t help or improve the work. They’re just made so people can fulfil their obligation to review the task. Feedback like this often leaves a bad taste making me doubt my competence.

Do you tend to overanalyse or even self-sabotage by engaging in destructive self-reflection?

Yes, but it doesn’t happen when I receive feedback on my work. More often, it happens in relation to other designers I know, when I find out that someone has done something great. In those moments I need to distance myself. I used to struggle with this a lot in the beginning of my studies when I felt like I didn’t know anything, and everyone else around me seemed so cool and fully understood what they were doing.

If I could go back to that time, I’d gladly tell myself, ‘Don’t look in that direction.’ I believe there’s value in comparing yourself only to your past self, not to someone else who is on a parallel track in completely different circumstances.

It took me a long time to build a kind of a wall in my information space. I hid stories from certain people and blocked any chance of seeing what they were doing. I knew that if I saw it, I’d be triggered and end up overthinking. For a while, I lived without interacting with those people. Eventually, I found a sense of strength within. I repeatedly proved to myself that I could successfully overcome the challenges. Only then did I feel more open towards others moving alongside.

How would you describe that initial feeling? Was it envy?

It was definitely envy, insecurity, maybe even anger. Everyone had different circumstances — financially, family-wise. My family couldn’t afford to pay for my education, and I was lucky to get into university on a free basis. There were students from Moscow who lived right next to the metro, while I had just arrived in the city, trying to settle in and get an education and a profession at the same time.

It’s one thing to show up to class with the latest MacBook, and another to lug a four-kilogram computer from Odintsovo [a city in Moscow region], sitting in class typing loudly with the buzzing fan. You sit there thinking, ‘Man, everyone must hear that my computer is struggling.' Meanwhile, people around you have entirely different lives, yet you’re all being graded on the same scale, still competing in some way despite being in such different situations.

Did you ever feel the need to compensate for this social imbalance in the future?

I don’t think the goal was to get even. But it naturally happens in life. Of course, I strive for better conditions and use the resources that become available to me through my work. This, in turn, might affect designers who are currently in the position I was in back then. But my goal is not to belittle them with my achievements. On the contrary, I try to think about how to help them if they face difficulties. Recently, a group of us helped a friend whose laptop broke down.

How important are support and empathy in your work relationships with colleagues and clients?

It’s not, unfortunately.

Could you elaborate?

I generally take a very dry approach to communication at work. I only discuss business and keep it neutral. Even when I have the chance to ask colleagues about their personal matters, I usually don’t.

Is this a personality trait, or are you afraid of blurring the line between professional and personal relationships?

I prefer not to get close or form friendships with colleagues. For instance, I don’t particularly want to hear about someone’s personal life or gossip while discussing work matters. Sometimes I feel the need to vent like when I receive unfair or inappropriate feedback from a colleague. But I don’t feel the need to do this regularly. I’d rather refrain from it.

How do you draw the line between work and personal life?

I try to make sure that in the evenings I close my laptop and stop thinking about work.

That’s a healthy approach for me and many others. I only think about job outside working hours when I genuinely care about the project. If I’m truly invested, I might catch myself thinking about it while, say, brushing my teeth, and ideas pop into my head. But I’d rather not have that happen.

So you keep the two areas completely separate.

Honestly, I want to say that I’m very tired of everything right now. I just want it all to stop. No design, no work, no studies. Last year of my diploma I was also working with three teams simultaneously. Now that my studies are over, I realised that I want to do many things besides design. I want to play sports, read books, watch movies, build a personal life and travel. Unfortunately, if you keep thinking about work after hours, you won’t be able to do any of those things. I want my life to have more than just work.

Sometimes you have to be strict and say, ‘Work is great, I love and respect my colleagues, but it’s time to stop. And now I’m off to yoga.’ Yoga is no less important than our collaboration, dear colleagues.

What makes you angry or furious at work?

I get really angry when I’m in a team where no one cares about anything. At such moments I feel very lonely. I try to get things done, but then they don’t go into production because the team is dysfunctional or managed by some villain. So the work I loved doesn’t get realised or move forward. It also frustrates me when there’s no room for creative expression in a project because there’s an established style or brand book I have to follow. I hope AI will eventually replace brand book-driven work, especially in corporations. It’s the worst, everyone is sick of the brand book, and it clearly needs updating, but you’re all forced to operate within its boundaries. There’s no freedom.

What upsets you?

Probably the inability to escape from where I want to escape. In my world, there’s still a need to earn money. It’s frustrating when you can’t leave a project or team simply because you’re financially dependent on it.

What scares you about the future?

The fear of becoming outdated. Missing something crucial and watching the world pass you by. I felt this way when I started hearing more about Web3, touch design or any emerging generative design technology. It felt like I didn’t give it enough attention in time, and now everyone else is already in the know, and I’m not.

What are some questions related to your profession that concern you personally right now?

The question of the boundary between design and art. For me, it’s very ephemeral, and it’s hard to perceive design purely as work where people sit and only do design. I don’t think it should be like that. Structuring and managing processes is great, but design can’t just be done strictly on a timeline, like in four hours. I can’t guarantee anything, nor can I be sure I’ll complete a task within a set time frame.

Don’t limit me. Design is largely a creative process, and you can’t confine it with strict regulations or box it in from all sides.

I want to catch my vibe, discover something new for myself and have that space and freedom. Nowadays many people see design as a tool. I often see designers who write in their social media bios that they create designs that boost business and drive sales. Sure, design can be used that way and it’s everywhere, but I want designers to feel a bit like great artists. Not just producing one of a thousand layouts but experiencing value beyond the context of a particular job.

Is that your dream or fantasy?

It’s something that will definitely happen in my life at some point. In fact, it’s already there, just maybe not as much as I’d like.

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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.

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