A Brief Overview of Big Tech Illustration: Flat Design, Corporate Memphis, and Alegria

Anna Xing
8 min readDec 27, 2020
Three colourful cartoon figures holding up a giant Facebook “like” button.
Illustration from the Facebook Alegria system. Source: Xoana Herrera on Behance

If you’ve visited the site of any tech company lately, chances are you’ve noticed a distinctive illustration trend featuring playful, tiny-headed figures in an assortment of colours. They’re often captured in motion, either engaging in the Platonic ideal of synergistic collaboration or bounding about with animated enthusiasm.

This illustration system is known as Alegria, and it’s rooted in a style revival not-so-affectionately known as Corporate Memphis.

Pages on the Airtable and Slack websites, circa 2018-ish. Sources: Alice Lee on Dribbble & Joshua Fulfs on Are.na

Flat Design

Both Alegria and Corporate Memphis are instances of flat design. It’s dominated tech branding over the past few years, replacing skeuomorphism as the digital standard.

In the earlier days of user interface design, skeuomorphic UI elements mimicked real-world 3D forms and their affordances. This helped comfortably migrate users from their traditional mechanical devices to digital screens.

Two phone calculator interfaces. The one to the left has realistic 3D button shadows, while the one to the right is flat.
Skeuomorphic vs. flat phone calculator. Source: Idealog

Over time, widespread familiarity with graphical interfaces rendered skeuomorphism unnecessary, and designers began placing greater emphasis on scalability, basic functionality, and responsiveness, which prompted the rise of flat design. Hence, the style became synonymous with modernity.

Corporate Memphis

While flat design in general draws upon a wide variety of influences, from Bauhaus and Swiss Style to Japanese woodblock, one of the most prominent influences on flat corporate illustration today is Memphis — a postmodern style from the 1980s.

As you can perhaps envision based on the defining looks of the decade, it’s best described as “a riot of color and materials that often overwhelmed a piece’s original intent, a shotgun wedding between Bauhaus and Fisher-Price.” It was a reactionary style which challenged the norms of modernism, which emphasized straight, clean lines. In fact, the Memphis Group created the style after a drunken night of furniture sketches. It was actively anti-tasteful.

A room with a brightly coloured, patterned floor and walls, filled with similarly zany-looking furniture.
Italian furniture brand Kartell’s tribute to Memphis design in 2015, featuring previously-unreleased products designed by Ettore Sottsass. Source: Creative Bloq
Peter Shire’s Big Sur sofa, and Alessandro Mendini’s Supreme skateboard designs in the Memphis style. Sources: Core77 & Creative Bloq

As the name suggests, “Corporate Memphis” is derivative of Memphis. It references the bright colours, high contrast, and bold, geometric shapes and squiggles of its predecessor. Corporate Memphis isn’t a formal design term — it’s more of a cynical nickname. It seems that the primary distinguishing feature between Memphis and Corporate Memphis is the context in which the style is used. Since the Corporate flavour is specific to commercial contexts, it’s often toned down and standardized so as to remain functional and unintrusive. The colour palette is tamer, certain image guidelines are codified, and the array of possible patterns is restricted to a tighter range.

A screenshot of an article from the Slack blog, with a colourful illustration of people surrounded by large abstract shapes.
Header illustration for an article on the Slack blog. Source: Slack
A pink Spotify billboard decorated with jagged red and green spikes, and white squiggles.
Spotify billboard ad from the end of 2017. Source: Smart Insights

Corporate Memphis has skyrocketed in digital design popularity in recent years. Just take a look at the libraries and interfaces of modern UI design tools, from Adobe XD to Figma to Canva, and you’ll see the distinctive mark of Memphis in the digital age.

White webpage featuring images of geometric yellow, green, and purple Figma components.
Figma landing page. Source: Figma

Alegria

This brings us to Alegria — the iconic progenitor of the quirky tech people-figures we now see everywhere. Officially, Alegria is an illustration system created for Facebook around 2017 by the design agency BUCK. As explained by the agency itself, Alegria derives its name from the Spanish word for “joy,” a fitting name for a style which radiates playfulness and positivity.

Three colourful illustrations of long-limbed cartoon people, with pink, purple, and orange skin tones.
Illustrations for Facebook Alegria. Source: BUCK

It fits neatly into the trendy look of Corporate Memphis. Note the flat, minimal design, geometric shapes, uniform line widths, and vivid colours. It challenges realism by warping perspective and scale, allowing it to translate 3D dynamism into 2D graphics. Xoana Herrera, an illustrator who worked on Alegria within the BUCK team, explains that “characters are stylized and not anatomically precise” and that they are “designed for expression rather than individual identity.”

Today, the numerous spin-offs Alegria has spawned are a testament to its success. It serves its purpose extremely well. On the branding end, simple shapes and lines make it highly extensible. It’s distinctive, and the fundamental elements of the style are easy to comprehend. Designers can quickly adapt it into their own work — which is not to say that it was effortlessly conceptualized, but rather that its creators were mindful of the many use cases it would need to fulfill.

And on the consumer end, Alegria projects an image of inclusivity, approachability, and groundedness. It injects an opaque Big Tech entity with a warm, friendly facelift, highlighting its human factors over its sometimes-nebulous, often-controversial technology itself. Most of Alegria’s artificial skin tones and exaggerated body shapes are so intensely stylized that they sidestep issues of representation altogether. After all, if nobody is represented in the literal sense, then everybody is represented in the abstract, and by extension, nobody is technically excluded.

These illustrations reflect a fanciful diversity that exists only in the imagination. Rarely do they highlight examples of natural visual differences, leaving the onus of envisioning a diverse cast squarely on the user. For instance, someone who pictures white as the default ethnicity likely won’t think much differently when presented with a purple-skinned figure without any visible ethnic markers. The same goes for gender, disability, age, etc.

This collectivist look in itself doesn’t reflect sinister intentions on the designer’s part. Neither does the homogeneity of tech illustration. Again, Alegria’s flexibility is its strength. When creating for a company like Facebook whose users literally span the globe, it seems logical to keep designs abstract enough to represent anybody at all. In this case, the ambiguity of character identities is meant to be a feature, not a bug.

Of course, many designers who work with flat, Alegria-adjacent, or Memphis-like styles reflect varying degrees of reality in their work, and there’s a lot of stylistic variation within this realm. For example, illustrator Jennifer Hom created a unique illustration system for Airbnb which draws upon flat Memphis design, yet intentionally avoids the anonymity that plagues many corporate illustrations. Despite their visual similarities, Hom’s approach to character creation is the fundamental opposite of Alegria, as her system embraces individuality while the latter avoids it. A similar sentiment about using real people as references is also echoed in this article from Meg Robichaud, which discusses diversity in illustration at Shopify.

Don’t worry, be happy?

Overall, Alegria is a lovely, expressive illustration system, but it has its shortcomings. Under certain circumstances, it can even feel malicious. The way I see it, two factors make the modern proliferation of Alegria-lite so uncomfortable.

First, Alegria’s quick replicability and ease of use has resulted in the rise of generic illustration libraries like humaaans, which provide stock images for the era of flat design. Once you’ve seen the millionth landing page featuring some variation of the same standard figure, these graphics start calling to mind the cold, impersonal metrics by which companies often define their consumers, as well as the half-hearted corporate insistence that those consumers are, in fact, more than just numbers to crunch. I suppose that may just be my pessimism.

Far more disturbing, however, is the political context in which Alegria is used. Its principles of utopic optimism and pseudo-inclusivity gloss over the real ethical issues that tech companies are struggling to address, often in tandem with language so friendly that it borders on infantilizing.

The list of controversies goes on and on. Regulators evidently can’t keep up with the fast pace of tech.

Our days of unfettered public trust in Big Tech are long gone, but companies won’t stop trying to bring us back — and the playful, innocuous aesthetics of Alegria and Corporate Memphis are just one small, highly visible part of these efforts.

I’m a perpetual skeptic of marketing in all forms. Despite myself, I still marvel at the wide range of artwork that’s emerged from current trends, as well as the fascinating history and influences behind it all. And to be fair, I think most of us — myself included — would rather rest easy with pretty graphics like Alegria and friendly UIs over raw brutalist interfaces, ethics be damned. For better or for worse, digital design trends are already shifting from flat design to who-knows-what-else (neomorphism and 3D renders, maybe?), and some of the images in this article are no longer in use on company sites. Whatever comes next, it’ll tell us more about the role that tech plays in our environment and how these companies seek to grow in the near future.

For more information about Alegria, see this Eye on Design article by Rachel Hawley.

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