The Kieler Woche competition is something quite special in a number of ways. Simply being invited to take part is itself an honor for graphic designers. I was invited for the 2007 Kieler Woche, which was dominated by its own history. Firstly, the grande dame of sailing regattas was celebrating its 125th anniversary. And secondly, this competition, which is probably unique in the graphic design world, had reached its sixtieth birthday. For me, taking part in Kieler Woche competition is linked with personal memories more than anything else. The briefing meeting takes place over three days at the opening of the Kieler Woche It starts with a welcome party in the Schloss for the designers invited to take part in the competition, representatives of the jury, and city dignitaries. The next day features a sailing trip on the Kiel Fjord. You can watch the regatta from the boat and see the sun glinting on the waves rippling around the bow. Yachts of all classes are at anchor in the Olympic harbor in Schilksee, and the old-timers among them catch my eye. So beautiful, it’s hard to put a value on them. There is a great deal of sporting and maritime activity. This is where they are born, the first inspirations for possible poster motifs. But you don’t want to think about that. The graphic designer’s brain is in a holiday mood. The opposite impression is conveyed in central Kiel. With the exception of a few folksy quotations there is little that is reminiscent of sailing here. Its three million visitors make Kieler Woche the biggest public festival in northern Europe. The city becomes one enormous beer tent. And all this for ten days, deep into the night. Günther Pieper is great. An engineer by profession, now a pensioner, he looks after us for three days. He has being doing it because he has been passionate about it for years, and can answer any question, no matter how difficult. Klaus-Peter Eggers is the other big man; he is Mr. Competition. His big moment comes on Monday morning. That is when things start getting serious, in a circular conference room in the Kiel city hall, the regional capital, which is faintly reminiscent of Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.
The official briefing is beginning. Previous years are run through rapidly and critically— with no holds barred, regardless of status and name. What remains is an impression of countless variations on waves, flags, sails, and boats in blue. That is worrying. What remains is an idea, a glimmer of hope. Seen by me. A magic moment, which appears in nature only every 125 years. The sun is glittering on the waves rippling before the bow—and their reflection writes the number 125 on the surface of the water. I swear that is how it happened. On November 3, 2006, at about noon I was phoned by the mayor of Kiel, Angelika Volquartz. The design with the submission number 83710 had won. But I wasn’t available in the office that day, so I did not find out about it until the evening, via an e-mail from the Kieler Woche office, which I assumed would contain thanks and a rejection. Absolute joy, hubris, oh God, was followed by acute paralysis of the heart. The competition, which had started in 1948 with a poster design by Niels Brodersen, by now included about forty different design deliverables. Then as now there was the classic printed matter, but also a variety of advertising media, and then about sixteen different merchandising items. There are about fourteen different invitations alone to be designed, some of them with the appropriate participant and reply cards, including cards welcoming visitors and sportsmen and -women. Aside from designing the poster, creating the Kieler Woche tie and the label for the bottle of Kieler Woche anniversary sparkling wine presented another major challenge. A shower curtain I designed was unfortunately not realized. I now have no recollection of the time pressure, the countless night shifts, correction processes, e-mails, and telephone calls.