Bruno Munari Made Me Look Twice

A creative icon I keep returning to

I’ve been spending time with Bruno Munari lately.

Not in the sitting-down-for-a-chat kind of way (though I reckon he’d have been excellent company), but through his books, his work, and his way of seeing the world — which has been quietly working its way into my head as I get stuck into a new creative project.

If you’ve never heard of him, don’t worry — Munari isn’t one of those loud design icons shouted about in textbooks. But he’s there, quietly influencing everything from advertising to visual identity and creative education. A Milanese artist, designer, inventor and author, he worked across everything: painting, sculpture, product design, photography, children’s books, typography, graphic design. You name it, he explored it.

He believed that design should be beautiful but useful. He hated the idea of overcomplicating things. And he had this way of making serious ideas feel light, accessible, and fun — which, let’s be honest, is an art in itself.

And that’s what I love most about him.

“To complicate is simple. To simplify is complicated.”

That quote has stuck with me. Munari had this way of taking big ideas and making them feel simple, clear, and full of possibility. His work wasn’t about ego or clever tricks — it was about curiosity, about making things better, and finding joy in the process.

He created “useless machines” that spun in the air for no reason other than to make people smile. He designed children’s books with cut-outs and moving parts, inviting the reader to play. He stripped back design to its essentials — and somehow made it sing.

From the shapes, holes and textures of Bruno Munari’s Zoo to the abstract, sensory storytelling in Nella notte buia, he believed that even the youngest readers deserved design that spoke to them directly. “A graphic designer should be able to design everything,” he once said — and he meant it. For Munari, books weren’t just to be read — they were to be touched, explored, and experienced with every sense.

Why he still matters

Design, branding, and communication have never been louder. But Munari reminds me that simplicity is powerful. That clever ideas don’t have to be shouty. And that play is a serious tool in the creative process — not a distraction from it.

Munari’s work feels like a deep breath. It reminds me that simple isn’t boring. It’s brave. It takes time and intention. It means cutting the fluff and leaving space for people to feel something.

His influence can be felt in the work of designers like Massimo Vignelli and Enzo Mari, and even in the minimalist elegance of Apple’s design ethos. In advertising, he’s part of the visual language that shaped mid-century modern aesthetics — less Mad Men, more quiet genius.

And he’s still quoted in creative education circles today — especially when we talk about problem solving, visual thinking, or the magic of making.

One of my favourite Munari quotes?
“Revolutions must be made without anyone noticing.”
And isn’t that what the best kind of design does? It changes how we see and move through the world — quietly, cleverly, beautifully.

What I’m taking from him right now

– Be playful, even in the serious bits
– Let go of design ego
– Simplicity takes more work, but it’s worth it
– Trust your process — even the messy, experimental parts
– Make space for joy in what you create

I think we forget, sometimes, that our job as designers, writers, makers — is to connect. And Munari did that with warmth, wit and wisdom. He was a communicator at heart, which is probably why I’ve found his voice in my head lately.

Where to start

If you want to go down the Munari rabbit hole, start with:

📖 Design as Art – a short read, full of wisdom
📚 His children’s books like The Circus in the Mist and Bruno Munari’s ABC – even as an adult, they’re magical
🌀 Just Google ‘Bruno Munari useless machines’ and enjoy

He’s reminded me that design isn’t always about what we make — it’s also about how we see. And I’m definitely seeing things a little differently this week.

More soon from the studio — I’ll bring the disco, you bring the curiosity.

‘Til next time, Sharon.