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THE CREATIVE MIND OF STEFAN SAGMEISTER: DESIGN, PLAY, AND PURPOSE

Designer Stefan Sagmeister has built a career on defying convention, bending the rules of typography, branding, and visual storytelling. From Grammy-winning album covers for The Rolling Stones, Lou Reed, and Aerosmith to provocative projects—including carving typography into his own skin—his work challenges the limits of design.

Every seven years, he steps away from his New York studio for a year-long sabbatical, using the time to recharge, explore, and create on his own terms. For this interview, we caught up with him mid-sabbatical, bouncing between Mexico and Ukraine—technically on a break, yet still generous enough to share his time and insights.


 

Defining Creativity / Defying Labels

 

Ask Sagmeister to define creativity, and his answer is characteristically unconventional: “There are very few things that bore me more in life than writing about definitions of creativity. I find the desire to define it a tad uncreative.”

Fair point.

Sagmeister’s refusal to box creativity into a neat little package speaks volumes about his approach—fluid, exploratory, and ever-evolving. When asked how he transitions so easily between disciplines, his reasoning is just as straightforward: “I get bored easily. So after a while, there’s always the urge to switch lanes.”

However, he does acknowledge the long-standing debate on whether creativity is an innate talent or a skill that can be developed: “I always used to be vehemently on the muscle-training side of this debate and regarded innate talent as a myth. But after reading psychological research, I found convincing arguments that genetics play a significant role in determining a person’s well-being. If this is true, then perhaps the ability to perceive trends in design could also be a naturally inherited trait.”

 

“There are very few things that bore me more in life than writing about definitions of creativity. I find the desire to define it a tad uncreative.”

The Creative Process

 

If creativity is indeed an inherited trait, Sagmeister seems to have inherited plenty of it. While some creatives adhere to strict processes, he takes a more relaxed approach, finding inspiration in his surroundings.

He emphasizes the importance of workspace design: “A beautiful studio makes me work longer and harder, simply because I want to spend more time in it. A wide-open view that is interesting helps significantly with idea generation.”

He also finds inspiration in motion and travel: “Taking train trips works well for me. The forward motion, combined with a view out the window and enough space for a sketchbook, helps generate ideas.”

For Sagmeister, working away from the studio has its own advantages: “In a different place, thoughts about execution don’t come to mind immediately, and I can dream a bit more freely.”

 

"A beautiful studio makes me work longer and harder, simply because I want to spend more time in it."

Risk and Failure in Creativity

 

Dreaming is all well and good, but the harsh reality is that any creative endeavor has the potential to fail gloriously. And while failure is often romanticized in creative circles, Sagmeister challenges this notion: “Failure is overrated. The same people who talked about ‘thinking outside the box’ a decade ago are now discovering ‘the importance of failure.’”

That said, he acknowledges that stepping outside his comfort zone has often led to success: “In most cases, when I go beyond what feels comfortable, things work out really well. My fears usually kick in far sooner than they should, and I’m convinced my work would be much better if I took more risks.”

 

“I’ve never seen play reduce depth or meaning.”

 

One misstep he recalls involved making a last-minute change to a presentation, which inadvertently offended several people: “But such a case happens too rarely to even mention. The problem of staying on the safe side is infinitely bigger—it eliminates so much potentially good work.”

Despite the risks, Sagmeister embraces playfulness in his work, believing that it enhances rather than trivializes depth and meaning: “I choose a theme or direction that is meaningful to me, and then I play within some parameters freely. I’ve never seen play reduce depth or meaning.”

Sabbaticals and Their Impact

 

One of the most well-documented aspects of Sagmeister’s career is his practice of taking extended sabbaticals. These breaks from client work have led to some of his most acclaimed projects, including Things I Have Learned in My Life So Far and The Happy Film.

Every seven years, he takes a year-long sabbatical to step away from commercial work and focus on personal exploration. These breaks have been instrumental in shaping his most introspective projects, reinforcing his belief that rest and reflection are essential to sustained creativity.

 

“The first sabbatical was really scary—I had to overcome a lot of fear.”

 

Reflecting on his first sabbatical, he recalls considering a career shift into film directing. However, he realized: “It would be a 10-year process, and it seemed to make more sense to stay with the language I already knew—design—and see if I had anything to say beyond the purely promotional.”

Was taking time off a risk? Not in hindsight: “The first sabbatical was really scary—I had to overcome a lot of fear (the studio being forgotten, clients leaving, etc.). But because that first sabbatical was so successful, the second was easy, the third even easier, and the fourth presented no risk at all.”

Now mid-sabbatical, he finds himself working more than ever, but only on projects that genuinely interest him: “I work almost twice as many hours as I used to in the New York studio before the sabbatical. It’s very joyful.”

Advice for Young Creatives

 

For emerging designers struggling to find their voice, Sagmeister offers practical advice: “If you’re fresh out of school, look for a design company that does the kind of work you want to do. Try really hard to get a job with them. Work your ass off. Then start your own place. It’s a great job.”

For those hesitant to take a break, fearing it might hinder their progress, he shares a friend's advice: “Stop concentrating on your own happiness and start looking out for the happiness of others.”

In a world where creativity is often seen as a solution to global challenges, Sagmeister offers a pragmatic perspective: “Ultimately, if your main goal is to change the world, design is not the right profession. Politics is. But designers can contribute an itsy bit here and there.”

On his website, Sagmeister challenges the idea that design is purely about problem-solving: “Solving problems is for accountants and engineers. We can do so much more. We can delight! I can experience true beauty—whether looking at the New York skyline or the Austrian Alps. Considering it took nature 200 million years to form the Alps, but New Yorkers built the skyline in 200 years, I’m somehow more impressed with New Yorkers. The form of the Empire State Building does NOT follow function, but it functions much better than the 1970s skyscrapers built under the term of functionalism.”

 

“If your main goal is to change the world, design is not the right profession.” 

Obsesssions

 

In September 2008, Sagmeister and his team set out to create something bold, fleeting, and unforgettable. Over eight days, with the help of more than 100 volunteers, they meticulously arranged 250,000 Eurocent coins across a square in the heart Amsterdam, sorting them into gradients of copper and spelling out a striking confession: “Obsessions make my life worse and my work better.” Then, in a move as daring as the project itself, they walked away—leaving the shimmering mural unguarded, open for the public to engage with.

What happened next was inevitable and yet, somehow, completely unexpected. Less than 20 hours later, a local resident spotted someone scooping up handfuls of coins, stuffing them into a bag. Protective of the art they had watched take shape, they called the police. But in a twist Sagmeister himself might have appreciated, the authorities—determined to “preserve” the piece—swept up every last cent and carted them away. Just like that, the artwork vanished.

I was there, working as a press officer for the festival, and I still have a few of those coins tucked away in a junk drawer, a fact I relayed to the designer. His reaction was pure Sagmeister: “Ahhh, that is fantastic! I still like that project...” No frustration, no regret—only delight in the unpredictability of it all. That’s Sagmeister—more invested in the creative process than the permanence of the result. His work isn’t just about aesthetics or function; it’s about play, storytelling, and embracing the unexpected. And perhaps that’s the real lesson: true creativity isn’t just about what we make, but how we engage with the world around us.
 

“Stop concentrating on your own happiness and start looking out for the happiness of others.”

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