1996
A meeting

Almost 30 years ago, in December 1996, the project culture magazine “Experimenta” published the monograph “Observatorio fin de siglo – 25 Years of Spanish design (1970–1995),” which I had the privilege of editing. A issue 200-page issue that explored a variety of topics, including interviews with prominent designers such as Cruz Novillo and Daniel Gil. That issue aspects such as the status our design the publishing house, journalism, and typography sectors; how design was perceived outside of Spain; training centers, schools, and Degrees ; the then-emerging boom in corporate identity, designers/illustrators, artists collaborating on design projects, political party graphics, design associations, pioneers, and the then-nascent desktop publishing...

In the lengthy conversation with Pepe Cruz Novillo included in that monograph, the designer shared some of his fascinating insights on various aspects of the profession, viewed from his perspective as a leading figure. meeting two memories of that meeting : the brilliance of his comments and his revelation of works that were completely unknown, even to those of us who had been following his career for many years.

Cruz Novillo pointed out, somewhat paradoxically, that twenty-five years earlier, in a smaller market, there was actually a greater qualitative need for a designer’s services, given the relationships with responsible business leaders and the absence of Structures within companies. He noted that the consumer—or Username design changed less than the designers themselves, creating a consequent mismatch. He emphasized the lack of understanding, at that time, on the part of Spanish society toward an activity where “despite the revolutions that have taken place in all fields, the results will not be so different (...) until society is structured at the most basic level—such as Education, for example.” He highlighted how, in earlier times, designers were draftsmen—something “almost dispensable”—while at the time of the interview, due to changes in work tools, work into the profession was possible without the need to learn manual skills.

When asked whether the outlook for designers was one that required specialization, Cruz Novillo replied: “I find it increasingly difficult to talk about design . I feel very uncomfortable talking about design . The demand for design be specialized, but the professional supply does not. It’s a bit paradoxical. It’s the client who has to be specialized.” I wonder if Cruz Novillo would hold the same opinion today.

During that same conversation, he humorously floated provocative ideas such as “the need to create graduate schools for designor claimed that “what used to take us three days now takes three minutes.”

2012
A Game of Mirrors

Luis Suñén, the director host of the Radio Clásica program “Juego de espejos” on Radio Nacional de España, referred to Cruz Novillo as a member of the San Fernando Academy of Fine Arts, as well as a designer, sculptor, painter, visual artist, and composer. Over a topic pianist Bill Evans that served as the program’s theme music, Suñén always introduced his guests as “someone who doesn’t make a living from music but who lives with music.” That person would select a few songs and discuss with the host the reasons behind their choices, what that music meant to them, their memories, and their feelings.

On October 12, 2012, the guest on “Juego de espejos” was José María Cruz Novillo in a one-hour radio program that allowed—and continues to allow—Radio occasional student to get to know the designer’s more intimate side, discovering the person behind the successful artist and designer. 

The first topic Cruz Novillo topic was a live performance of an excerpt from his “Opus 14,” a composition he referred to as a “dodecaphonic diaphragm” whose sheer length is dizzying; he humorously announced that when the concert finally ended in three million years, a grand celebration would be held, for which he was deciding “what flavors the canapés would be.” On air, the designer discussed his series of variations in color, grade , and tempo following a reflection on the limitations of repetitive graphic work. goal was to achieve the ideal “that every print coming off the press be different” through variations and combinations based on a issue of elements.

Cruz Novillo found in all the pieces selected for the radio program elements capable of eliciting unexpected reactions in him—chills, he said. He sought out pieces of non-classical music, as natural as the air we breathe, and related them to his work consists of “essentializing”—explaining in the simplest way possible, revealing—describing the chosen music as monodic and the relationships in a “synaesthetic” mode with flat colors, withoutChemistry,” making them easy to perceive.

Expanding on these metaphors, he described himself as a “visual singer-songwriter” who prefers silence while designing, and shared with us one of his reflections—simple yet profound: “The designer works with the things he knows; the artist works with the things he doesn’t know.”

At one point during his appearance on “Juego de espejos,” Cruz Novillo lamented that he was unable to express himself more clearly, unable to find the right words to explain the concepts swirling in his mind—a lament born of an admirable intellectual rigor. The designer stood out not only for his work but also for his speech , in his case, was accompanied by a deep voice rich in overtones that reinforced his professional authority.

Cruz Novillo and Emilio Gil at "A Discussion on Art and design," Roca Madrid Gallery Auditorium, Madrid, September 9, 2014

2026
“You owe me a book”

When the author of these lines—an 18-year-old student of Technical Architecture at the Complutense University of Madrid—was trying to get a foothold in the profession to which I have since dedicated my life, a long search began. Back then, it wasn’t easy to break into the design. Someone at an advertising agency advertising the time suggested I speak with a man named Cruz Novillo and gave me the address of his studio. With the audacity of youth, I showed up one fine morning “cold” at that address, and the designer I’d been told about opened the door. Pepe—now I dare to write his name with this familiarity—spent a few hours with me with a generosity I’ve always been grateful for, and that helped me confirm my intuition that design was “my thing.”

Years later, in 2011, I spoke at CaixaForum Madrid as part of a lecture series degree scroll Best of the World, degree scroll organized by Ibercrea and coordinated by the writer and journalist Arcadi Espada. In 2007, my book “Pioneers of design in Spain, 1939–1975” had been published, in which I had not included Cruz Novillo, as I considered him to be an active designer rather than one with a completed career, as is the case with the graphic designers featured in that Issue. As I finished my talk, Pepe was standing at the auditorium door and blurted out to me: “Emilio, you owe me a book.” I didn’t quite understand him because I had already given him a copy of my “Pioneers” earlier. Cruz Novillo clarified it for me: “No, you owe me a book about me.” After a series of preparatory meetings, I decided not to fulfill my obligation to the designer. I’m not quite sure how to explain why.

In the language , there is a term— “pass away”—that is far less tragic than our equivalent, “death.” To our ears, it suggests a transition, a continuation, a farewell—not a final goodbye. José María Cruz Novillo is no longer with us, but the bequest his work to accompany us every day. One of his pithy phrases—ironic yet full of meaning—was “Spain needs a dose of Helvetica,” that ubiquitous Swiss typeface that is effective, beautiful, useful, and modern in its timelessness. This country has not yet experienced that leap into modernity, that update, but if it has made any progress in terms of design to work impressive work this creator.

Emilio Gil
Graphic Designer
Gold Medal for Merit in Fine Arts, 2015