At the most fundamental level, designers create things. Architects create buildings. Authors create stories. Musicians create songs.
And on and on, but every creation is also an experience. One could read a piece of literature word for word, page for page, and at the end, recount the plot, the names of the characters, and possibly even the sixth word on page forty nine. Or they could enter a building, determine the architectural style in which it was constructed, be fully aware of the materials used to construct it, and observe the precise angle at which the ceiling beams meet. Even hear a song and effectively determine the time signature, the key, all the instruments involved. Mark the change from mezzo piano to pianissimo, all of these things are experiences. Yet they could occur with no feeling, none of that inexplicable tugging of heartstrings that leads one to conclude that an experience has affected them. A designer wants the experiences they create to be full of feeling, having a lasting effect; overall meaningful.
A successful design creates an experience via an instantaneous, emotionally, and relevant essence.
So it must be a designer’s goal to create memorable experiences.
A memorable experience can be viewed as contingent to a meaningful experience as a common result of efficacy is commitment to memory. If a design creates a powerful experience, it will stand out as unique and vivid in one’s mind. It will be remembered as having meant something to the subject. It is important to consider that most of one’s life takes place in the mind. We can only ever act in or experience a single moment: the present moment. Everything else is either remembered (moments that have already passed) or anticipated (moments that lie in the future). So, as a designer, creating an experience that lasts in the memory should be considered a great success.
Essence In an Instant
Yet what is committed to memory is rarely an entire experience, but rather the essence of that experience. What is essence? It is the inward nature, true substance, orconstitution of anything, as opposed to what is accidental, phenomenal, illusory, etc (dictionary.com). One can recall the essence of a past experience or imagine the essence of a future experience in a mere instant. Here’s a test that you have one second to complete: channel the feeling you have when listening to your favorite song. Good, now, that didn’t require three minutes and nine seconds (I happen to know your favorite song is the Cotton Eye Joe Techno Remix). Chances are you could instantly access the essence of the experience of listening to the song because it is stored in your memory. You don’t need to hum the tune of the song or recite the lyrics to almost replicate the mental state that an actual listening experience facilitates. With a great deal of concentration, you may discover that these facts about the song actually come to mind after the essence of the song. Now anticipate—again in one second—a trip to a city in Italy. One you have never been to. Without needing to enumerate all the sensations of such an experience, you can imagine the essence. Whether the visit would be one day or one year, the essence is a constant: a state of mind, instantly accessed and tangible to the mind. It does not require a day’s worth or a year’s worth of imagining to capture. A distinct essence lies at the core of any powerful experience, synthesizing all its elements.
The above photo reminds me of much of the music I listen to. I feel that these relationships can be attributed to a shared essence: is there a musical genre or specific song that comes to mind when you look at this photograph?
We’re naturally led to the question: what makes a powerful experience? A meaningful essence? Often, emotional significance to those that access it. In other words, the same essence possessed by something that has been previously experienced or imagined; a valued memory or fantasy. There is an infinite set of possible elements and combinations that will capture the same essence. These elements are all things that can be experienced: sights, smells, sounds, movements, textures, colors, sensations, lines, angles, and the list goes on. The assemblage of such elements also has other characteristics: harmony, juxtaposition, pacing, complementation, et cetera.
Artists Build Essence
Everyone has experiences, and each of these experiences has an essence; so what makes artists and designers unique? Well, there are a number of ways in which they can be unique. Some may be very good at tuning into these essences—consciously experiencing and analyzing them. For others, the concept of essence may remain largely in the subconscious. Either way, those who create have found a way to manifest essence in their artistic work. They are adept at combining aforementioned elements in a way that becomes meaningful to their audience. An artist or designer must take the essence they wish to convey and reassemble it; not with its original elements, but through new mediums and techniques. And in the end, their method should effectively communicate that same essence to someone else. The design holds meaning for the beholder because it taps into memories and emotions of the same essence. Puts them in a state of mind parallel to those held in their memories or fantasies. And the remarkable thing is the connection between the designer’s original experience and the beholder’s connected experience. Perhaps they are strikingly similar. Perhaps they are entirely divergent. Regardless, the essence is the same and by this they are connected—with the design being the connecting medium.
This photograph is not necessarily dependent on it’s subject matter; however the photograph could provide a valuable experience to someone who does not even know what hookah is. Upon asking one of my friends to take a split second glance at the picture and not focus on the subject matter, she told me that she was reminded of pink flamingos and, to her, the photograph communicated “seediness.” Perhaps the essence of this photograph is one with the essence of kitschy yard decor?
Let’s entertain an example now. Suppose a musician is writing a song. She holds a memory as the inspiration for the song. Let’s be cliché and say this memory is a break up. The essence is bittersweet; warm and sad. There are a million elements to the memory: her ex-boyfriend Oscar’s hair, brown at the scalp and nearly blonde at the tips, his seaglass colored eyes, his peppery cologne, Oscar’s deep-pitched laugh, the purple pen he carried in his pocket, the time he tripped on his shoelace, the store where they once bought a carton of chocolate milk, the texture of the petals on the tiger lilies he gave her, and the sensation of all of that being gone. So she writes a song with the same essence: bittersweet, warm, and sad. And it says nothing about Oscar or the purple pen or any of the unique elements of her memory. But in the notes and pauses and the emotion saturating her voice that essence is captured.
A Man Hears the Song
He experiences the song and his experience has a bittersweet essence. He feels warm and sad listening to it. These emotions, this state of mind, connects him to memories of his grandmother’s house. He remembers the oak table in her dining room, the salt and pepper shakers that were shaped like birds, her wrinkly soft hands on the edge of the porcelain plate as she brought him a piece of the most succulent warm apple pie, the smell of honeysuckle through the open window, having seen her in the hospital bed, now knowing he will never have her apple pie again. The essence: the same. The memories: different. The experience: successful, meaningful, created by that songwriter and manifested in that song. If the subject of the song had blatantly been Oscar and the breakup, it may have generally hindered this connection. Her conscious choice, to in some sense generalize the content, enabled the experience to become meaningful to individuals besides herself.

Let’s return to the concept of our lives being largely memory and anticipation. As suggested previously, the essence of an experience is invaluable because it is the kernel that, if the experience is deemed significant, one commits to memory. Sure, it may take three minutes and thirty nine seconds for the man to listen to the song. And he will certainly focus on some of the details of the song while listening; individual words, chord changes, the beat. He may access the essence of the song, as well as his personal memories, simultaneously with the details. However, the essence will be accessible in his memory without the necessity of details. It is not that details destroy or override essence, it is simply that the essence is beyond these elements and not dependent on them.
Because essence is instantaneously accessible and lasts in one’s memory much longer than the actual experience lasts, I think designers should concern themselves with the essences and the moments they create. The experience of their work, although it may be short, becomes emotionally significant and memorable if the essence is powerful and well captured. When committed to one’s memory, a design will be recalled. This is significant to an infinite number of future experiences, thus creating greater relevance and an interconnectedness, not only within art, but within life.
This picture gives feelings of heat, thirst, and captivation. I attribute these things to that which brings back memories of my travels in Thailand. Many of the scenes held the same essence I gather from my experience with this photograph.
I do not wish to suggest in this article that art and design cannot be valuable based on their specific details, technical elements, or other measures. This is simply one measure of the effect of art forms and how you can incorporate these philosophies of essence to enhance the technicality of your artwork.



