Presentation Zen [36]
The ideals of wabi-sabi come from Japan, and the origins are based on keen observations of nature. Wabi literally means “poverty” or lacking material wealth and all its possessions, yet at the same time feeling free from depending on worldly things, including social status. There is an inward feeling of something higher. Sabi means “loneliness” or “solitude,” the feeling you might have while walking alone on a deserted beach… deep in contemplation. These two concepts come together to give us an appreciation for the grace and beauty of a scene or a work of art, while remaining fully aware of its ephemerality and impermanence.
Some Westerners may be familiar with the term wabi-sabi through wabi-sabi-inspired design, a kind of earthy interior design which is balanced, organic, free from clutter and chaos, and somehow quite beautiful in its simple presentation, never appearing ostentatious or decorated.
The ideals of wabi-sabi are most applicable to such disciplines as architecture, interior design, and the fine arts. But we can apply the principles to the art of digital storytelling (presentations with AV support/integration) as well. Wabi-sabi embraces the “less is more” idea that is often talked about and often ignored in today’s society. Visuals created with a sense of wabi-sabi are ones which are never accidental, arbitrary, cluttered, or busy. They may be beautiful, perhaps, but never superfluous or decorative. They will be harmonious and balanced, whether symmetrical or asymmetrical. The elimination of distraction and noise can certainly help begin to make visuals with greater clarity.
A Zen garden is also a lesson in simplicity. Open space without ornamentation, a few rocks carefully selected and placed, raked gravel. Beautiful. Simple. The Zen garden is very different from many gardens in the West that are absolutely filled with beauty, so much beauty, in fact, that we miss much of it. Presentations are a bit like this. Sometimes, we’re presented with so much visual and auditory stimulation in such a short time that we end up understanding very little and remembering even less. We witnessed a large quantity of “stuff,” but what of the quality? Is it not the quality of the evidence and the experience that matters, rather than, say, merely the amount of data or the length of the experience?
Living here in Japan all these years, I have had many chances to experience the Zen aesthetic, either while visiting a garden, practicing zazen in a Kyoto temple, or even while having a traditional Japanese meal out with friends. I am convinced that a visual approach which embraces the aesthetic concepts of simplicity and the removal of the nonessential can have practical applications in our professional lives and can lead ultimately to a more enlightened design. I do not suggest you judge a presentation visual the same way you do a work of art, of course. But understanding the essence of Zen simplicity can have practical applications in your creative work, including the design of your presentation visuals.
The “Fish Story”
After I presented for a large tech company in Silicon Valley, I received this note below from Deepak, an engineer in the audience. This little story illustrates the idea of reducing the nonessential.
Dear Garr… When you talked about reducing the text on the slides, I was reminded of a story from my childhood in India. If I remember it right, it goes like this:
When Vijay opened his store, he put up a sign that said: “We Sell Fresh Fish Here.” His father stopped by and said that the word “We” suggests an emphasis on the seller rather than the customer, and is really not needed. So the sign was changed to “Fresh Fish Sold Here.”
His brother came by and suggested that the word “here” could be done away with—it was superfluous. Vijay agreed and changed the sign to “Fresh Fish Sold.”
Next, his sister came along