Interview with Arnaud Gillard
I am a multidisciplinary designer driven by the desire to leverage technology to create socially and environmentally sound solutions to complex problems.
Designer Interview
3 April 2025
For as long as I can remember, my creativity has always been derived from two pillars: 1) my ability to observe the world around me, and 2) an itch to solving problems elegantly. Yet, despite these underlying characteristics, for a long time I was adamant that I would pursue a career in aviation and become a pilot. Not only because of the symmetry between heavy machinery and the stillness of being suspended in air, but also because of what it represented - the freedom to see the world differently, literally and metaphorically. But most of all, it was the relationship between man and machine that inspired me. I also was fortunate enough to live internationally, spending most of my formative years in Hong Kong - a vibrant bridge of innovation between the east and west. I thrived with different cultures, and I would spend countless days sifting through the streets of Sham Shui Po curious about the latest prototypes coming out of factories in the east.
It was until my time at University where I actively pursued a pathway into the arts and engineering. I had the opportunity to study at one of the finest design schools in the UK - learning about the beauty of elegantly fusing form and function. University also exposed me to the breadth of the design world, and how design went far beyond simply creating consumer products. New dimensions emerged in the digital world (UX/UI), In systems (Service Design), and even creative thought (Design Thinking). It was there that I realized the problems I was passionate about solving didn’t fit neatly into the physical world of Industrial Design—they transcended those boundaries, often requiring more abstract, unconventional forms of creative output.
It was until my time at University where I actively pursued a pathway into the arts and engineering. I had the opportunity to study at one of the finest design schools in the UK - learning about the beauty of elegantly fusing form and function. University also exposed me to the breadth of the design world, and how design went far beyond simply creating consumer products. New dimensions emerged in the digital world (UX/UI), In systems (Service Design), and even creative thought (Design Thinking). It was there that I realized the problems I was passionate about solving didn’t fit neatly into the physical world of Industrial Design—they transcended those boundaries, often requiring more abstract, unconventional forms of creative output.
For me, design occupies the intersection of engineering and art. It can be visible or invisible, it can solve problems or create them, but above all, it is created with purpose.
I’m less concerned with the format of a design and more fascinated by the problem being solved. Complex problems with tight constraints are my playground. And I strive for solutions that are minimal, magical, and mindful—those "Aha!" moments, when a solution feels so inevitable, so simple, that you can’t help but think at how obvious it seems in retrospect.
The design I admire most is the first-generation iPod Shuffle. At first glance, it’s just an MP3 USB stick. But for me, it perfectly encapsulates the philosophy of minimal, magical, and mindful design. In a time when the trend in consumer electronics was to add screens, the Shuffle made a bold statement by doing without (Minimal). Its design prioritized the experience of "shuffling" music—introducing an element of randomness that turned every listening session into a surprise (Magical). And finally, it stripped everything down to its core purpose—just music, nothing else (Mindful). A seemingly humble product, yet a powerful statement in its simplicity.
The first design I ever created for a company was a race logo for my local sailing club in Hong Kong, when I was just 12 years old. Back then, the graphic design tools we take for granted today didn’t exist or were too expensive. The best tool I had at my disposal was Apple’s newly released "Pages" app, which happened to have a vector-drawing tool. For several days, I painstakingly crafted the logo, and it ended up winning the competition. Yo my surprise, Ten years later, the logo still stands, and the event it represents has grown into the largest youth sailing competition in Asia.
At the moment, I gravitate toward vector-based platforms like Keynote, Sketch, and Figma. These tools have been my companions throughout my career, and I love how their simple, intuitive interfaces allow me to translate ideas across the entire spectrum—from low-fi wireframes to pixel-perfect design specs. They provide the flexibility to evolve an idea at any stage, and that’s something I value deeply.
I feel the most creative when I am not meant to. Annoyingly its the 5-10 mins before falling asleep which is why I religiously carry a notebook with me to jot down any ideas or thoughts. The next morning, I often find myself deciphering my own scribbles from the night before.
The most important aspect for me is the why. Why am I designing this? What problem am I solving? Have I explored all reasonable solutions before settling on this direction? A design without a clear sense of purpose is like a ship without a rudder—it may look great, but it won’t get you where you need to go. Asking these fundamental questions early on is crucial, because without them, you risk wasting time and resources pursuing an ill-fated path.
I don’t necessarily feel any particular emotion when I’m designing; it’s more about the interplay of thoughts and ideas. However, I do find that my emotions from daily life often influence my work. I tend to do my best creative thinking when I’m dissatisfied with a design direction. That feeling pushes me to constantly reevaluate and refine, keeping my brain in a state of creative tension that drives innovative solutions.
To me, the hallmark of a successful design is that “Aha!” moment. It’s when a solution feels so inevitable, so perfectly aligned with the problem at hand, that you can’t help but think, “Of course—it’s so simple, yet so smart.” It doesn’t need to be flashy or even beautiful, though those qualities are certainly appreciated. What matters most is that the design feels like it belongs, like it was the only possible solution.
My first impression of a design will often be a question on whether I feel the design adds value to the world. It could something functional that addresses a pain point, something aesthetic, or even something that’s polarizing that engages debate and dialogue.
I find designers can often fall into a trap of wanting to fix the world’s problems - and don’t get me wrong, I love that energy and enthusiasm. But it can often distort the impact & responsibility of a designer. I try to think of a designer’s responsibility as something more simple “is your work adding value to the world”. It doesn’t have to be much, you might design a screwdriver thats slightly more ergonomic, or an airport signage that guides people through security faster - but having a philosophy of adding value and contributing to improvement big or small is the best I think design can offer.
Like many designers, a lot of my creative thinking often originates from seemingly disparate experiences and memories and ideas. And I often attribute this to a sense of randomness: the ability to make creative connections between things that don’t seem related at first, but in retrospect feel obvious. This randomness is one of the most human aspects of creativity.
My most formative job experience to date was my time at Arrival, an electric vehicle startup in the UK. It was a short, two year stint but highly formative as a professional. I worked amongst some of the most talented designers, and experienced the entire lifecycle of a company from Public IPO, to Product Launches, Manufacturing, Layoffs, and unfortunately bankruptcy. It’s hard knowing a company and product I so badly wanted to release to the world never see the light of day - but the skills I developed personally and professionally have been invaluable.
I often think a balance of both is important to creating effective designs. Individual design development helps you move far and fast, but teamwork and collaboration sets your direction. The best creative decisions I’ve made were never the result of working alone. Having someone to bounce ideas off of, to challenge your assumptions, will more often than not lead to richer and more original creative ideas.