Dear First name / creative,
When we talk of web design, many of us describe the website as a digital canvas. We pay attention to things like form, color, content—how they all find harmony on the page. These are integral to the craft, no doubt. Our design emerges from a multitude of visual choices: font pairings, color palettes, and section layouts, to name a few.
Except this isn't quite the whole picture. The metaphor of website as canvas may be helpful in lending artistry to our practice, but it can also be limiting in other ways. It makes us forget that the website is a medium with its own properties and possibilities.
The website isn't a static piece of work; it sticks and scrolls. Web design can shape space, yes, but it can also shape time.
Far too often I come across sites that would have been stunning, but they fall flat in terms of movement. Animation becomes an afterthought. Without a single creative spin or stroke of genius in sight, they miss the chance to leave a lasting impression on me.
[F]igurative art had passed from two or at the most three dimensions to acquire a fourth: that of time. —Bruno Munari, Design as Art
As expert and educator, I believe that websites of today could be far more dynamic and multidimensional if we allow them to be. So this made me think—what else can I offer to accentuate this overlooked aspect of web design? I already touch on CSS animations in my signature courses, but I wanted something more to help ease you into movement. That's when it struck me: I could build a system.
Over these past few weeks I've combed through my archive, taking notes from sites that unfold like poetry in motion. You know I'm not one to shy away from complexity when it elevates the user experience. But I want to make it as simple as possible for you to fine-tune the tempo of any website. After all, it's effortless execution that raises the value of your craft in the eyes of clients.
This is what moved me to work on what I now call Adagio, a library of advanced web animations exclusive to Squarespace. I named this project after the slow, sweeping expression of grace in music or dance. A more befitting metaphor to a scroll-worthy journey across space and time, if I do say so myself.
