Tribute: Cooper Woodring, FIDSA

TRIBUTE

REMEMBERING COOPER WOODRING, FIDSA

In 2021, the design world lost one of the greats, Cooper Woodring, FIDSA. He meant so much to so many, and his list of accomplishments and successes over the years is impressive, to say the least. Cooper’s contributions to our profession and to IDSA make him truly one of the great pioneers of design. But Cooper was so much more than that. He was a mentor, a confidant, and, most importantly, a thoughtful and unforgettable friend. The pages that follow could easily be filled with Cooper’s many notable and impressive accomplishments, but it seems more fitting to describe who Cooper was by capturing fond memories from just a few of his many close friends. We’re certain Cooper would approve!

Cooper was my dear friend and mentor and a solid voice of reason. I have so many fond memories of him, and I will miss being able to pick up the phone for honest advice and direction. Cooper was always willing to help and so generous with his time, especially when it came to IDSA or anything design related. I was always impressed by the level of enthusiasm and effort he gave no matter the cause.

In 2009, as a favor to me, he spoke at the IDSA Midwest District Conference. He treated it no differently than if he were getting ready to address Congress. His level of detail, care, and concern for the topic was more than impressive. His presentation was about the “7 Deadly Sins of Management.” I remember asking him what message he wanted the audience to walk away with. His response was, “It is easier to learn not to do something verses how difficult it is to learn to do something.” His words were profound.

That presentation will always hold significance to me, not only because of the content but also because of the jest that followed years later. Shortly after I became an IDSA Fellow in 2016, I received a package from Cooper. The package held a handwritten card congratulating me on my fellowship, and to my surprise, Cooper had gifted me the original notecards from his “7 Deadly Sins of Management” presentation. To this day, those notecards are proudly displayed in my home.

Cooper has shown us that there is no time stamp on people and as designers we can maintain our relevancy and creative edge long into our golden years. He knew how to communicate with all ages, and he had a special way of making you just a little bit better by being your friend. I am grateful to Cooper for so many things, and I will miss him dearly.

—Kevin Shinn, FIDSA

An elegant and gracious gentleman, Cooper gave his full attention when listening to a person and would comment thoughtfully with wit and wisdom. Beloved for his laughter and storytelling, he drew lessons from every chance encounter and experience, whether it was serving as a volunteer firefighter in the 1970s or testifying in a high-stakes court case.

Unfailingly generous with his time and guidance, Cooper educated and helped me in many ways. Over the years, he surprised me with many gifts, such as a beautiful Art Deco appliance made in Chicago and historical material from his time at JCPenney. But the most treasured gift Cooper ever gave was his time. While attending the 2017 IDSA Conference in Atlanta, I was lucky enough to spend a precious afternoon with him as he reflected on his life.

During our conversation, Cooper mentioned a pivotal moment in his childhood. He said that he always felt different and was ridiculed by the popular kids at school. At 13, he said he rode his bike past the home of family friend and

neighbor, famed psychiatrist Dr. Karl Menninger, who was raking leaves in his front yard. Cooper ran to him to ask, “Dr. Karl, am I normal?” Menninger replied, “You are anything but normal, Cooper, you are extraordinary!” Those words, Cooper said, changed his life, freeing him to pursue his interests and choose his own paths.

Cooper also explained how appreciative he was of the lucky breaks and opportunities that became steppingstones in his life. While studying furniture design at the University of Kansas, his roommate, Wendell Castle, was studying industrial design. The two became interested in each other’s majors and eventually swapped paths. Castle became an acclaimed designer of luxury art furniture, and Cooper joked that he designed for the “masses instead of the classes,” heading product development at retailer JCPenney. But life always has a way of coming full circle, Cooper noted, and at the age of 80, he was enjoying royalties from his patented topselling furniture design, the first injection molded nesting rocking chair.

Cooper was fortunate enough to study at Cranbrook where his teachers included George Nelson, FIDSA, and Charles Eames. He often said that he and his fellow classmates were in “design heaven.” “We all knew they were great designers, but we didn’t know they were gods,” he mused. As I reflect on these memories shared by my dear friend, I can’t help but to see him in design heaven right now with such luminaries sharing laughs and stories. —Vicki Matranga, H/IDSA

By some quirk of fate, I became Executive Vice President of IDSA under Cooper Woodring who was President. What was that again? Wooding/ Woodring. Are they brothers? Is that a mistake? Cooper was well-known within IDSA, but I came out of nowhere; this was my first office of any kind within the organization. The real confusion came on IDSA-sponsored trips abroad to ICSID conferences and, particularly, a threeweek trip to three cities in the Soviet Union. Woodring/ Wooding? Which one is the president? To whom do we give the head seat at the table?

Beyond all the confusion and fun, I could not have been more fortunate to begin my tenure as an IDSA officer than to have Cooper as my mentor and coach. Cooper was the most generous, knowledgeable, and dedicated advocate for IDSA I have ever known. He had an incredibly fertile mind, and the additional designation of inventor to industrial designer is more than appropriate for Cooper. He was also a lot of fun, full of stories, and always ready to talk away the night. He was as good and loyal a friend as anyone could wish. I consider myself a very lucky guy to have the honor of having Cooper as my friend. When I think of all the people who have influenced and enriched my life, Cooper is at the top of that list. I will never forget him.

—Peter Wooding, FIDSA

Cooper’s resume spanned every aspect of our profession. He started his career in consulting offices, worked in and led corporate design departments, became an entrepreneur, was the author of a book on how to become an expert witness, led classes on the subject, and guided the profession to another level. He was always the statesman rather than the politician, so it was no surprise that he was the go-to person when IDSA faced changes or when we needed a representative to speak on the profession’s behalf before Congress. He was generous with his advice and instilled in others the mindset of “of course you can.” His diplomatic reserve always made challenging situations appear manageable. One of the best experiences of my career involving Cooper was his invitation to join him and Darrell

Staley, FIDSA, as the third American delegate to the 1989 Interdesign conference held in Toyama, Japan. He described it as the ultimate designers’ camp, a two-week exploration to develop concepts with the theme of “Living with Water.” The international group of 36 designers enjoyed spectacular scenery and factory tours in the mountainous area of northern Japan, home to many of the country’s craft and manufacturing industries. The camaraderie was spectacular

as well, organized through the leadership of Cooper, Dmitry Azrikan (USSR), and Yasutaka Suge (Japan).

He and I had much in common, having worked for mass-merchandise retailers, and often talked about those perspectives. To be successful in the many areas of the profession and to give of his time to us was Cooper’s path, one we can all choose. He was patenting devices until the end and never stopped solving problems. I can only hope to have some of his optimism, energy, and drive. Things won’t be the same without him, but we’ll always have his indelible example.

—Nancy J. Perkins, FIDSA

Cooper was one of the most self-assured yet humble people I have ever known. In one of our many conversations in a shared office at the University of Kansas ID Department, he revealed that his father had served as governor of Kansas. With some encouragement, he added that his father had also served as Franklin D. Roosevelt’s secretary of war. Cooper lived in DC during that period as a young boy and remembered FDR reading stories to him as he sat on the president’s lap. Perhaps because of FDR’s influence, storytelling was one of Cooper’s many talents and one which I enjoyed throughout our long friendship. Stories about his children, his boats, his service as the mayor of a small town in New York, and, of course, his many stories about his design career and his later career as an expert design witness.

One of my favorite Cooper stories concerned his first expert witness case. The case accused a competitor of copying a very successful and patented design. The legal issue was whether or not the accused design was derived from the patented design. At the conclusion of all the testimony, the judge asked Cooper to explain why he was convinced that the plaintiff had crossed that line. Quoting from the record, Cooper’s response was, “Well, your Honor, if my daughter, whom you have not met, were to enter this courtroom, one look at her and you would intuitively see, in a heartbeat, that in spite of our many visual differences—such as she is female and I am male, she is young and I am old, and she has a full head of hair and I have practically none— that she is derived from me.” The judge immediately ruled in favor of Cooper’s client. Cooper went on to become the foremost design expert witness for decades.

Cooper was a true friend to me and countless other people inside and outside of IDSA. I will also remember him as a mentor, a confidant, a great storyteller, and a hell of a designer. I’ll miss him. Rock Chalk, Cooper! —Ronald B. Kemnitzer, FIDSA

As a younger designer, I referred to Cooper as “that guy who always talks about design patents.” Little did I know how much influence “that guy” would have on my professional life.

As I matured and began receiving design patents, Cooper made more and more sense to me. I got to spend a great deal of time with Cooper at the 2003 IDSA National Conference, which was cut short by the northeast blackout. That is where our friendship began to grow.

In 2010, a law firm asked me to be an expert witness, and I immediately called Cooper. He said that I should do it and not to worry as he would be available to mentor me. Feeling reassured by Cooper’s mentorship, I took the case. Two weeks later, I contacted Cooper for guidance. In Cooper’s typically humorous style, he told me that he would not be able to mentor me because he was now an expert witness for the opposition in the case. So now in my first expert witness case I was going up against Yoda. I learned a lot from that case, the hard way, of course.

Once it was over, Cooper took me under his wing and gave me invaluable advice and information about being an expert witness. I took his expert witness training class in 2015 and kept in constant contact with him regarding the world of design patents, trade dress, and copyright (features of useful articles). Of course, we would discuss other design and non-design topics as well. It was always a pleasure to speak with him, and we kept in constant contact until the end. He will be greatly missed by me and the industrial design world in general. They just don’t make people like Cooper anymore!

—Tim Fletcher, FIDSA

You can read more tributes to Cooper Woodring on the IDSA website: www.idsa.org/ news/passages/cooper-woodring-fidsa-2021.