Push’s visual character and personality shine through in the spacious counter of the capital ‘G,’ inspired by Thorowgood’s Seven-Line Grotesque (1830), and a lowercase ‘a’ (reminiscent of Plak, 1930) that presents as both squat and tall. Speaking of the letter ‘G,’ there’s also a looped American version, an open-looped Danish version, and a two-story Grotesk in the lowercase set.

Across its eight weights, seven widths, and 56(!) styles, Push showcases a blend of the Old and New—a type chameleon for the designer’s toolbox. The range of possibilities across the width, weight, and shape spectrum gives designers typographic versatility for today’s multifaceted, complex, and multi-media brand applications.

Push was created by Swiss designer, Christine Gertsch out of Fontwerk, a Berlin foundry known for helping brands stand out with type.

Drawing the best from the past century of type design, Push has been a labor of love to create a typeface that works hard under any conditions and will endure the test of time.

Christine Gertsch

Fontwerk tapped Rocket & Wink, a design-art-graphic-brand-bureau-agency-whatever (their words) from Hamburg, Germany, to create a video campaign that showcases Push in all its glory.

Look closely, now. . .

To the left of Kirk Douglas’ head is a handmade embroidered sampler—the vintage kind that was common for displaying a typographic motto like “Home Sweet Home.” This particular sampler is not as insignificant as it seems; there are three of them hanging around the office, and they underscore an important plot point.

These pieces are a venerable typographic medium. Per Wikipedia:

“A needlework sampler is a piece of embroidery or cross-stitching produced as a ‘specimen of achievement,’ demonstration or a test of skill in needlework. It often includes the alphabet, figures, motifs, decorative borders and sometimes the name of the person who embroidered it and the date.“

Seeing the pieces in the film triggered a few hours of digging through my digital and analog type specimen sheets to find more evidence of the origin of bitmap letterforms. This embroidery is made on a grid, and the letters conform to the size and shape of the grid in a form similar to early digital fonts. Whether this had any influence on bitmapping in the early digital days is supposition. However, I suppose it could have been an inspiring template for those designing ornate decorative wood and metal typefaces.

Just look at the sample pages from Au bon marché: Album de marques & de broderies (1900), which feature 40 plates of marks and embroidery. If this stuff did not influence the design of even a few fonts, I’ll eat my sampler.

With a body of work throughout the 1990s that enthusiastically and provocatively amalgamated dualities—word/image, real/virtual, hand/machine, past/future—American graphic, type, and multimedia designer P. Scott Makela established his reputation as a creator of postmodern visual languages outside normative graphic design. While designers of different generations, mindsets, and training disagreed acutely (and sometimes quite nastily) about what graphic design was and what, how, and to whom it should communicate, Makela was his own kind of designer. An enduring inspiration was weighty, machined stuff—the primordial analog output of industrial production, which he frequently rebuilt into dimensional letterforms, married to meaning, and presented in a succinct, unambiguous single punch. “Actually,” Makela said, “I find 2D type a backward transformation from 3D, a 2D way of describing 3D events.” Revisiting his work and philosophy is an opportunity to appreciate his prowess in reconstituting meaning and breathing life into language. I interviewed Makela in the spring of 1997 as part of my MFA Thesis at Cranbrook Academy of Art. Our exchange, below, is lightly edited and condensed. 

I think of 3D type as your signature style. 

Well, I think that it has been for the last three or four years. I’ve really never gotten tired of the mass it creates and the ability to create [the appearance of metal] alloys. I’ve always been interested in this idea of alloys. It wasn’t specifically “Oh, I want to look at 3D type because it was on a Metallica or heavy metal cover.” It really was more because of growing up in a household with manufacturing and aluminum extrusions. 

So it was about material?

Yeah. It was about material and the way it was formed and the way it was extruded out of machining tools. I grew up in a household where all these pieces were around, and I grew up with these pieces and these forms. By the other token, 3D type has become such a popular mode of trying to get people’s attention, even more so recently, that actually I’m struggling with trying another strategy because it has begun to lose meaning. Like Dead History loses meaning after it’s out.

What was the first piece you did using 3D typography?

The first piece I did officially, a printed piece using 3D typography, was the Mohawk piece, Rethinking Design, and it was the “Do Nothing” article I did with Tucker Viemeister. Before 3D programs were available, I started to use a program called Pixar RenderMan[1987], which was the old animation special effects engine for creating shapes. I tried to form typefaces using that. 

Mohawk Paper Mills promotion “Re-thinking Design,” copyright 1992, pages 14-23, Tucker Viemeister and P. Scott Makela’s collaboration “On Doing Nothing.” Scans of the original, courtesy the author.

So you and the software grew up together? 

Yeah, and then when certain fonts were available, I’d import them into that environment and create new possibilities. That was the advent of what was called Pixar Typestry[1990]. The software became a real basis for the way I would do things. Most of the stuff I’d do would actually be by default; when you moved the object, it became a cheap effect. I became interested in looking at things head-on. That style became a boilerplate.

While cruising around the grocery store, I noticed three genres of 3D type on products. It’s interesting; each medium has a different way of using it, connoting different things. 3D type is used on junk food for kids, household chemicals, and dog food. On television, I noticed that it’s used in sports, news, and toy commercials and often to imply technology, speed, or power. I found it cheesy. What’s your definition of cheesy when It comes to 3D type?

I think cheesy is newscasts. I’m so enamored of this thing, floating, hanging …

It’s slightly menacing, which I like.

I look at Stanley Kubrick films and realize what I really like about his direct use of models, like in 2001, was feeling that weight and that gravity. I’m interested in that gravity.

When you’re using 3D type, what do you feel it means?

When I think of how I use 3D type and how I used these floating planetoids, I think of them as giving me the opportunity to have XYZ coordinates. Instead of an implied depth of field, having the object appear as a real 3D object with some of the shadows it throws on the surfaces allows for a natural photographic depth. At the same time, it has the effect of being very modern. I like it when it’s not clear whether it’s a 3D rendering on the computer or a photograph. Some other designers have worked with a pixelated quality. I’m interested in how it feels when it’s burnished, really brushed and direct. It’s about implying depth. I’m interested in small, massive chunks. I don’t have a lot of language in my work. [I have] A simple language. I find it interesting to create dynamics within that equation.

So you think of type as having a back, a top, and sides?

Yeah. Absolutely. And what’s behind, because there’s a thickness and depth to the actual object, at least to me. I see it through my eyes, and that’s a problem.

Why?

I see language in the way that I’d like to read it, and it’s about reducing. When I was a student here years ago[1989-1991], Michael Hall, the head of Sculpture, had a really big effect on me during my reviews. He talked about reducing and isolating the work. I still had a lot of extraneous asteroids floating around, which didn’t solidify the message. So, for me, it became about (attaining) focus and isolation.

How influenced were you by Pop Art?

One of the biggest influences in my becoming a graphic designer was the work of Ed Ruscha. He was one of the California Pop artists, but he went beyond that because he wasn’t borrowing from commercial culture as much as from pedestrian strip mall culture—almost a lack of style. Ruscha brought language to life with his thick, floaty words. He and John Baldassari had the biggest impression on me. In the last five years, I’d say Lawrence Weiner. 

The Minneapolis College of Art and Design 1993-1995 catalog, designed by P. Scott Makela;
Courtesy the Minneapolis College of Art and Design.

Is there a message in the work?

The overall message in all my work is simply levitating directness in front of you. The language in the work is formed by the message or problem I’m solving at that time, but its delivery vehicle is about putting the message in front of someone and letting It levitate with a certain degree of weight. That’s the formal message. That’s the formal container.

Is the type hollow or solid?

I’d like to think the type is solid (laughter). It’s definitely die-cast solid without a hollow core. And remember, alloys contain mixtures of metals.

To me, [even] if it casts a shadow, it’s not necessarily 3D. It has to have substance as an object, and your work and Glaser’s stuff are there, even though they’re hand-rendered and funky. 

Peter Max, as well. 

And Ji Byol Lee in New York, whose stuff is done in Adobe Dimension. He rotated Univers. It has a top and a bottom and a front and a back. I look at the range of stuff, and they’re all different vernaculars. You said something about moving away from it or redeveloping it.

Here’s the thing. The way 3D type was used, was part of the 70s vernacular. The airbrushed type that was always the standard art house solution had a masculine quality. Now, with post-rave culture, 3D type has become everyday and accessible, just like how Photoshop has become, so it has become a convention now, a new vernacular. Part of my struggle now is to keep defining my work. First, when we’re designers, we can make our work about constantly jumping ahead as if that’s the only impetus for making it. You’re trying continually to refine something. That’s why it’s still interesting to me to go into those three-dimensional (programs) and try to create hybrids, which are a kind of shaving-off of skin. There are so many people doing the 3D type thing right out of the box with Pixar that I can’t help but feel that my own work is reduced if I don’t move onto a new plane of seeing how I can add more weight, more mass, even if it’s implied or more psychological rather than becoming structural or formal. 

I know people have talked about looking at the interior of typography, and I haven’t seen that exploration done successfully. It’s like the first time you saw a ceiling in a film was in Citizen Kane. So this is the thing to explore. Legibility on the outside of the word isn’t even an issue. I think it’s [3D type] supremely legible, but to go to the inside of the word, legibility is not going to be the same thing.

Yeah. We’re going to [learn to] recognize new shapes.

All you can do is look at the inversion, the concave part of a letter. If you look at the upper inside corner of the slab [serif] on an “I” it will look like the inside of a metal bird box or like you’re stuck inside a heating vent. So it’s really difficult formally to move forward. It’s why I’m now trying to concentrate on a psychological mass of something that’s implied. And that might be about a mysterious billowing like Freddy Krueger with the stretching face emerging from behind a very black surface. There are ways to interpret inflation. It’s interesting that you mention it because I’m not as interested in super-chiseled letters that feel like you’re not sure if they’re filled with liquid or if they’re solid. Pneumatics. Air. Fluid. Hydraulics. 

I was talking to Ji about this because when I look at his forms, I’m not sure what they’re made of. Plastic? Metal? They could be ceramic; it’s twirled around in that way. He said they can be made out of anything – even chocolate; he doesn’t care, it’s fine with him.

Let me say this: I think it’s a downer to be labeled as the 3D-type guy. When we went to London and visited Vaughan Oliver, he said, ooh, the 3D guy, 3D, 3D. It’s funny, but my work has never been about fine details; it’s been about the macro chunks. And that mechanism, up to now, has been successful for me. This is a strong communication of this idea; it is a strong way to present this text. But now, I feel that I’m at a crossroads in moving forward because I’d like to leave everything behind—but it’s easier said than done. I still find myself trying to refine some of those things that I barely started to scratch the surface of. And unfortunately, or fortunately, people are researching the same areas. Maybe that’s the reason to go on even stronger and continue to refine it. I don’t know.

On one hand, everybody makes work that really characterizes and showcases their interests and affinities. And to say, “I have to make a change,” if there’s still appeal, I’d say go with your interests. Because everyone’s identifiable. Vaughan’s work is identifiable, too.

But also, it [an investigation] takes 10-15-20 years, like with a painter. But as time becomes more modern and people move to the next. Do the enema paint on the wall … make little plastic dolls with penis noses … so, it’s also about the shock of the new, being able to relate to what the new is. When Ruscha’s work came out, peo­ple couldn’t figure out if it was commercial signage or an actual painting. The question is: is it a painting?

The other thing about making “new” is about making “uncomfortable.” Have you done things with this style of type that have made you uncomfortable? Have there been shocks?

The biggest shock is when something is incredibly ugly because, to get to something beautiful to my inner eye, I usually have to go through some ugly things—like I showed you some of the Sweater things. There’s a fine line between what I might do and what a 13-year-old might do in his bedroom or what Mondo 2000 looks like. It’s wanting to slum a little bit. So there’s definitely a wanting to enjoy part of that slumming. I don’t know if that’s a good answer.

What was that Pixar-generated form that was gray and dimensional?

That was Summer’s (Summer Powell, Cranbrook 1997) font pumped into 3D. It became this floating monolith that made me think of those young ravers looking up at this floating thing in front of the speakers. We talked about it. It reminded me of 70s Led Zeppelin covers when they had these monoliths, and we all sat around the table looking at these things. So that was our idea. A new god. A floating, again, a levitation. Whenever something’s floating above you, you’d better take notice. To bring 3D type to life, that industrial quality is attention­-getting because it sticks out into the atmosphere from the surface. And that’s another thing, formally, that I can’t resist.

A Walker Art Center Fall promotion circa 1992 -1996. Scans of the original, courtesy the author

For more, listen to Debbie Millman’s 2020 interview with Laurie Haycock Makela on Design Matters Live; they discuss her revolutionary typography days at Cranbrook with Scott Makela, surviving two brain hemorrhages, and arriving at “the project of a lifetime.”

My nieces had baby girls weeks apart two years ago. They are now expecting again (due this summer). One of them asked me to design an artwork with letters because her daughter was learning them. 

She had me at letters. The question was what to do: a poster, a set of cards, a book? If a book, what size, what colors, and how? Agonizing over the style of the letters ensued. I started pinning on a board examples of letters that looked like designs for children and another board to pin children’s books. Still, I felt lost for a couple of weeks. 

I started to research children’s books, went to the library, and started to read a bit about children, especially about two-year-olds. Then, I remembered some geometry and reading lessons from Wheaton Montessori School when we lived in Chicago. There are many similarities between design education and the Montessori method, but that is for another post. A particular aspect from my kid’s days at Montessori has always stuck with me: I remember my son tracing shapes with his index finger. He’d do this with words and objects he’d see. That memory helped me decide what to do next. 

The letters needed to be thick enough for a two-year-old to trace with their finger. This is not unlike some of the letters I have written in my daily practice. I thought I would add a simple graphic of an object—food or otherwise— that started with that letter. I also wanted the book to be small enough to fit in the hands of a two-year-old. Thankfully, Blurb offered a 5” x 5” book in softcover at a very reasonable price. Then, I got to work.

Looking back, I could have been more consistent in the type of letters I created. Same with the style of the objects. I also realized that designing for children was more intimidating than designing for adults. There are a plethora of questions floating around. For instance, is this stroke thick enough? Should the O be more like an oval or a circle? How much information is too much or too little? Ultimately, I decided to go through with it all and make edits later. One of my niece’s birthdays has passed, and the other is coming up. Deadlines always work, don’t they? 

The book has been uploaded to Blurb; however, it is not yet listed in their bookstore. Here is the link if you are interested in getting one.

Some photos of the project are below:

Alma Hoffmann is a freelance designer, design educator, author of Sketching as Design Thinking, and editor at Smashing Magazine. This is an edited version of an original post on Temperamental amusing shenanigans, Alma’s Substack dedicated to design, life, and everything in between.

All images © Alma Hoffmann.

The letterforms are organic, demonstrative, sculptural, and spacious. Pitanga is confident but flexible with eight weights and two styles. Its open aperture makes it legible in display and smaller text sizes. Charismatic diacritics bring personality to Pitanga’s Portuguese voice, but the typeface also supports more than 200 Latin script-based languages.

The Brazilian typographic studio describes Pitanga as a kid flying a kite on the beach in the Vidigal favela of Rio, a footballer’s twisted leg, or samba’s precise yet subtle footwork. You could say that Pitanga characterizes the Brazilian idea of “bossa” (talent, creativity, a new way of doing things).

Fabio Haag Type project credits: Creative Direction & Design – Sofia Mohr; Design Critiques – Fabio Haag, Henrique Beier, Ana Laydner & Eduilson Coan; Engineering – Henrique Beier; Graphic Design – Palp Studio; Illustration – Gabriel Diogo; Copywriting – Thiago Mattar

Compiled by the award-winning typographer and graphic designer David Jury for Merrell Publishers, Mid-Century Type offers a visual exploration of the rise of the typographer after World War II, between 1945 and 1965. With advancements in printing came booms within the magazine and book industries, and further technological breakthroughs led to an elevated era of film and television title sequences. Coupled with a thriving travel economy which saw an increased need for signage and advertising, the golden age of the typographer came to the fore. 

Each chapter of the compendium is dedicated to a particular sect of design in which typography has played a significant role. These chapters range from categories like Posters and Corporate Identity to Transport to Film & Television. Jury provides insights into European and American typographers within these fields, accompanied by over 500 illustrations of typefaces, advertisements, book covers, specialist journals, posters, and more.

If you’re a type lover or even if you’re just type-curious, Mid-Century Type is absolutely essential for understanding the history of the art form.

Sharp Type is a global type foundry based in New York City. It was co-founded by Chantra Malee and Lucas Sharp and is known for font projects such as Ogg, Sharp Grotesk, and Sharp Sans. Chantra Malee, Sharp Type’s CEO, started the namesake scholarship fund as a passion project.

Malee was happy to answer a few questions about the scholarship, why she started it, and her experience as a woman of color in design. Our Q&A is below.

In past interviews, you’ve discussed type design being “beholden to the typographic exemplars of the past.” How have you experienced this in running a studio and digital foundry? Do you find that this reverence for what came before is diminishing?

It has become less relevant. The type design industry is rapidly evolving as the digitization of type becomes more and more accessible. Sure, there are still plenty of historic type figures that we revere. But inspiration comes from more than your antiquarian book market these days, and even more so from social media and transient digital landscapes, making it harder to cite and credit sources. This changes the landscape that type designers have been akin to for centuries. As a foundry, we have always relied on digital platforms to produce our work; however, we’re more careful not to jump the gun and share our work on our social channels before it is ready for release. In our excitement in the past, we have shown sketches very early in our design process, which has the potential to inspire others’ work, often resulting in uncomfortably similar work. While type design has been harder than ever to protect, it has never been easier and more widely accepted to experiment and push the limits. Sharp Type has taken great advantage of this progressive atmosphere. This past year, for example, we conducted extensive research to create a new Omni Latin character set and develop a complex Omni Latin tool to support indigenous languages in South/Central American and African regions that are not traditionally accommodated in the type world. This is an exciting example of the kind of work we can do now with all that is available to us. 

How does reverence for the past hurt or help today’s expanded design considerations, such as accessibility/readability and inclusiveness?

We live in a vastly different landscape than our predecessors, so it’s hard to compare our contemporary needs with theirs from the past. It’s important to have a healthy respect for them to learn and benefit from their triumphs and failures. Ignoring them would be a detriment to our progress as an industry. However, looking back shouldn’t bind us to a single track, and we should expand our awareness to incite constructive change in the industry. 

What sparked your idea to start a scholarship program? What specific experiences or aspirations led you to create the Malee Scholarship? 

As a young woman, I received a scholarship from The Urban League of Rhode Island. They granted me $5,000 cash to go toward my upcoming year in college to support me however I needed, whether for books, gas, food, or directly for my education. For me, what felt even more gratifying than receiving the money was being recognized, seen, and acknowledged. They believed in me and my potential and trusted me to use my best judgment to use the money however I needed. So, later in life, starting The Malee Scholarship came naturally to me. I had a good model. 

Paying it forward is an important aspect of my mission for The Malee Scholarship—to be grateful for any opportunities we may have had in life and offer support or mentorship when we’re in the position to do so. I actively choose not to dwell on any particular experience that I may have had but instead take action to make positive change. The Malee Scholarship was my effort to create an opportunity to uplift, recognize, and support other women from an underrepresented ethnic background. 

When I first entered the type industry, much like the world of branding where I started, there was space, and I felt a need for a platform like mine. I’m so proud and happy to see that more and more women from across the globe are getting much-deserved recognition and opportunity that further enriches our industry and paves the way for greater inclusiveness and creative progress. 

Typefaces created by Malee Scholarship winners and finalists.

How can type foundries and design studios further the work of this scholarship opportunity? Can you offer any insights from Sharp Type’s culture?

There is so much incredible talent out there. Work with people from all walks of life and use it to your advantage to learn. As a personal example, when we first invited My-Lan Thuong [left], who is half-Vietnamese, as a type designer to the team, she recognized that Vietnamese was widely unsupported. It didn’t take much to convince us to add Vietnamese support to our default character set. Just from that one connection and authentic relationship, we moved the needle in the right direction. That is one of many experiences we’ve had since the beginning. If you do that enough, you can make incredible progress and positive change.

While perusing the Sharp Type website, I found myself ogling Ogg [pictured below]. Do you have a favorite Sharp typeface? What’s next for the foundry?  

Oh boy, so many! Ogg is certainly one of my all-time favorites, but I’m also incredibly excited about what is around the corner. Next month is a big moment for us as a foundry. We will drop a brand new website and release our most expansive typeface ever called Sharp Earth, which took five years of development and will be available in seven language scripts and a plethora of global languages. We’ll also release our first published book, Sharp Type Volume 1, a visual homage to our 8+ years as a foundry. 

Header photo: past Malee Scholarship winners and finalists; all images courtesy Sharp Type.

Collaborating closely with the creative minds at Mrs&Mr La Colombe’s new visual identity pays tribute to the coffee roaster’s rich graphic tradition while infusing it with a contemporary twist. Highlights of the redesign include a revamped wordmark, meticulously hand-drawn to evoke a vintage charm and a renewed sense of pride and authenticity. The iconic dove emblem, symbolic of La Colombe’s pioneering spirit, has been reinvented to exude uplift and forward momentum, reflecting the brand’s commitment to innovation. Accentuating La Colombe’s core values, this rebrand resonates throughout every aspect of its identity – from the logo and packaging to the café ambiance and retail presence.

“We created a refreshed brand look to honor La Colombe’s powerful heritage and simplicity, seamlessly tying together the brand experience in products and cafes,” said Chobani Founder and Chief Executive Officer, Hamdi Ulukaya. “The result is a beautiful reflection of our premium offering, thanks to our deep, creative collaboration with Kate and Daniel of Mrs&Mr over many months to get it just right.”

To complement the brand’s evolution, Mrs&Mr introduced a bespoke typeface. Inspired by industrial fonts, Draft Latte Sans is infused with a human touch, mirroring the artisanal craftsmanship that defines La Colombe’s products. The refreshed color palette, featuring warm tones and creamy hues, invites consumers to indulge in a sensory experience.

The refreshed identity comes together in the Draft Latte packaging, where every detail conveys a sense of authenticity and quality. The can’s base color, now a luscious cream tone, echoes the freshness of farm-fresh milk, while the enlarged logo and subtle drop shadow ensure maximum shelf presence. The curvature of the Draft Latte logo mimics an overflow of froth, while the addition of ‘ESTD 1994’ proudly showcases La Colombe’s 30-year legacy in the coffee industry.

“All of this culminates in a design system that reflects the heritage, craft, and quality that La Colombe puts into every aspect of their coffee experience,” said Kate Wadia, Founder and Creative Director of Mrs&Mr.

The collaboration between the Mrs&Mr team, Chobani’s leadership, and La Colombe’s CMO, Kathryn O’Connor, has created a visual identity that honors the brand’s legacy and paves the way for a new era of coffee experiences.

As people interact with La Colombe, they can expect flavors and experiences crafted with passion and dedication. With the launch of the Draft Latte line and the unveiling of its refreshed look, La Colombe invites coffee enthusiasts to savor every sip and embrace the artistry behind each can.

Calligraphy has always enthralled me, but until working at Shorthand, I had merely been a passive admirer. I leaped to invest in my own nibs and inks and fell down many a calligraphic rabbit hole on Instagram. While online art-making resources are wonderful, there’s still nothing quite like an actual instructional book you can keep on your shelf as a resource. Professional calligrapher, author, and educator Margaret Shepherd understands this all too well as the author of 20 titles geared toward teaching calligraphy.

Shepherd has been a professional calligrapher for 55 years, with her work currently housed at the Smithsonian Museum and the Rare Books Department of the Boston Public Library. She’s conducted freelance work for colleges and law firms and has taught workshops and given calligraphy demonstrations around the world. Her latest book focuses on the history and depiction of American calligraphy, specifically, aptly titled Learn American Calligraphy. The book takes readers on a visual trip around the United States, learning how to calligraph in multiple styles along the way.

As a somewhat novice calligrapher, I reached out to Shepherd to learn more about her love of the art form and what her new book offers. Her responses are below!

(Conversation has been edited for length and clarity).

It’s a lofty question, but why do you love calligraphy so much? What is it about the art form that compels you to dedicate so much of your life to it?  

It’s a good question. Basically, I flunked the transition from simple “manuscript” letters we learned in first grade to loopy, arbitrary “cursive” script that was forced on us in third grade. I ended up with terrible handwriting—a sort of hurried printing—until ten years later when a friend gave me an Italic pen. This opened up a whole new world; the problem wasn’t me; it was the limitations of cursive script. I gather that calligraphy offers a second chance to all those Americans who couldn’t learn script or were never taught—and there are many of us!  

I was lucky to have the right teacher (Norberto Chiesa, a former student of Paul Standard) at the right time (my early twenties) and in the right place (Sarah Lawrence College). The course in calligraphy was only offered once. Two students took it. We spent months on the Roman capitals, starting with weeks learning the letter O.

I’m convinced that calligraphy is just intrinsically appealing to everyone, from non-specialists to hobbyists and professionals, because it engages both sides of the brain.

I noticed that after every campus event, people saved the name tags I’d lettered and posted them on their dorm room doors. I’m convinced that calligraphy is just intrinsically appealing to everyone, from non-specialists to hobbyists and professionals, because it engages both sides of the brain. Scientists have determined that one side reads the words, and the other side sees the abstract shapes. Put them together and it creates a rich, satisfying experience for both writer and reader.

I love calligraphy because it lets me spend my days turning wonderful texts into visual art.  

Do you feel a responsibility to help keep calligraphy alive in our hyper-digital world? Why is it  important to keep teaching calligraphy? 

For decades, whenever I mentioned my profession, people would automatically comment, “Oh, that’s a dying art!” or some other off-the-wall comment. When I began teaching high-school art teachers, I found that the low profile of calligraphy meant that very few how-to-do-it books were available. So, I turned my teaching materials into a basic textbook, the first of 20 books I’ve written about aspects of the field. That book, Learn Calligraphy, is still in print, introducing beginners to the basics. 

That’s how calligraphy will continue to survive and thrive— by joining the culture in every country where it takes root.  

But calligraphy has changed in the 50 years since I thought I had summed it all up; America has finally declared its independence from Old World alphabet styles. The definition of calligraphy got bigger, stretchier, and livelier. Now, any survey must acknowledge the influence of sign painting, graffiti writing, Native American images, folk art, protest placards, penmanship instruction, cattle brands, and even the letters imagined by retro-futurists. My new book, Learn American Calligraphy, celebrates the New World’s stylistic independence from the Old World. That’s how calligraphy will continue to survive and thrive— by joining the culture in every country where it takes root. 

Postscript: I’m doing my part to resist the hyper-digital world, by being pretty inept at its processes.  

What do you hope readers take away from Learn American Calligraphy? What sort of  experience do you hope they have engaging with the book?  

I hope readers can enjoy learning about the rich variety of alphabet styles invented here or modified to suit American purposes. Readers can appreciate the letters around them and understand why they look the way they do long before they pick up a pen. Even beginners don’t have to limit themselves to historic calligraphy from Europe and England centuries ago. 

After waiting decades for someone else to write a book about American calligraphy, I have put together my own introduction. With every alphabet I included, I asked myself, “What makes it American?” and “What makes it calligraphy?” Each alphabet offers a back story, an explanation of how it relates to other American arts and simple instructions for how to write it. Readers will learn what, how, who, and most of all, why American calligraphy matters. I hope they will feel like Michael Sull, one of the early reviewers, whose review started out, “Finally!”

The first edition of Thinking with Type was published in 2004. Since then, it has remained a must-have resource for anyone passionate about typography and design. The latest edition features new and additional voices, examples and principles, and a wider array of typefaces.

A clear advocate for the culture of yes, Lupton talks about the ever-evolving field of typography from a deep historical appreciation to our current cultural context. She also shares some keen insights about aesthetics, why hanging punctuation marks look so much better than unstyled punctuation mixing typefaces, and the process of mixing typefaces to complement one another like wine and cheese.

If you missed the live stream and are thirsty for more type talk, you can register here to watch the discussion.

Don’t own a copy of Thinking with Type? You can order one here.

House Industries, founded by Andy Cruz, has a rich 30-year hand lettering practice that has visualized legendary brands like Hermès, Porsche, Lego, The Eames Office, Heath Ceramics, The New Yorker, and Jimmy Kimmel. Derek Galkin founded Autotype to celebrate designers and give them the freedom to operate outside of their daily craft; past collaborations include designers Pam Shamshiri and Jonathan Ward of Icon. Galkin notes, “It’s our way to express our love of design. Often, creatives get stuck in their means of what their expertise is.”

Andy and I grew up in the world of skateboarding. Our identity as youths in youth culture was defined by what posters we hung on the wall or the t-shirt we wore. Now that we are grown up and immersed in the world of graphic design, how does that evolve and how do we celebrate that today?

Derek Galkin, founder of Autotype

Working as friends for over 20 years, Galkin calls their partnership an “inspiration injection.” The two met pre-social media in the early 2000s, during the House 33 project in London. “Andy and I grew up in the world of skateboarding,” says Galkin, continuing, “Our identity as youths in youth culture was defined by what posters we hung on the wall or the t-shirt we wore. Now that we are grown up and immersed in the world of graphic design, how does that evolve and how do we celebrate that today?”

With a shared love for Los Angeles architecture, Neutra type, and the expansive Photo-Lettering, Inc. archive purchased by House Industries in 2003, the collection features a selection of House’s favorite typographic specimens and graphic inspirations translated into everyday objects, remixing inspiration into new hits.

“We’re fans first,” says Cruz, adding, “If you’re a fan, you don’t want to bum anyone out.”

More than a cool project inspired by cool letterforms, the collaboration comes from the heart and honors a typography archive that is often overlooked in the syllabus of design history. Founded in 1936 by Edward Ronthaler and Harold Horman, Photo-Lettering, Inc. (known as PLINC) was a prolific type foundry once housed at 216 East 45th Street, within what was then New York City’s typesetting district. Today, all 1,500 cubic feet of graphic film reside at House Industries’ Baltimore studio. As Cruz put it, the library charts “The golden era of type as it moved from metal to the film reproduction process.”

Left: Rondthaler, Edward, Life With Letters…as they turned photogenic, Hastings House, 1981. | Right: One Line Manual of Styles visual index, Photo-Lettering, Inc, 1971.

As a major collection of mid-twentieth-century type design, the archive contains film negatives and positives of most of the 10,000 alphabets, decorative motifs, and logos produced in the company’s 55 years by the foremost gifted type designers and lettering artists of the time, including Peter Max, Bob Alonso, Vincent Pacella, Vic Carus and ringleader Ed Benguiat.

Cruz explains, “From WWII up until the Mac, they were the spot to get type from. Once you had your font drawn, they perfected the high-speed turnaround of stepping and repeating these films to set type for designers and creative directors.”

The scrappy process and quick hustle of Photo-Lettering, Inc. embraced commercial lettering artists working in and around Manhattan, including women type designers. The archive continues in this spirit of accessibility as a personal reference for House Industries which has slowly digitized the archive since acquiring it, and also as a source for other type designers and creative directors. Kate Moss tapped the archive for her work with TopShop, sourcing and re-engineering an old Harper’s Bazaar font, as one example.

Making type accessible is one part of the equation for Autotype and House. The other part is enthusiastically telling untold stories of typography’s history, through a lens of personal significance. The Neutraface A to Z eye chart, for instance, showcases the geometric sans serif font collection designed by House, inspired by the work of mid-century master architect, Richard Neutra. The collection of items and objects offers entry to a world of type, hopefully generating more fans. Stirred by a shared love for visual design that began with unvarnished influences in skateboarding culture, the pair have produced a product experience that is a genuine, not-so-scrappy tribute to the art of type.

Autotype and House Industries invite individuals to embrace the art of typography through their collection, available exclusively on Autotype and the Los Angeles location of Heath Ceramics beginning April 11th for one month. Notably, 5% percent of sales will be dedicated to supporting the Letterform Archive, a nonprofit design institution.

The new identity also features Wilberforce Sans, a custom typeface designed in collaboration with Studio DRAMA.

Studio DRAMA’s Chris Nott (creative director) and Will Richardson (co-founder and creative director) drew inspiration from the RSPCA’s history of activism, specifically protest signage in the organization’s archives. The typeface got its name from this history: one of RSPCA’s founding members was the great abolitionist William Wilberforce. Nott and Richardson also wanted to invoke a different kind of provenance— the country’s Grotesque typographic tradition. For Wilberforce Sans, the team added a few unique deviations. Subtle stroke-weight contrasts deliver a hand-drawn quality, while ligatures embody togetherness and community.

Not wanting to shy away from the brand’s 200-year-old heritage, the bespoke font [designed in collaboration with Studio DRAMA] takes cues from protest placards found in the brand’s archive, designed to really get everyone to join the movement, and features echoes of the new illustration style.

Ellen Moriarity, Design Director, JKR

One of the more interesting aspects of Wilberforce Sans is that it works in concert with the new identity’s illustrated animal iconography. The Studio DRAMA team designed the typeface with soft ink traps that connect it to the accompanying animal icons, both visually and in its personality.

Borrowing from the RSPCA’s old logo, the “Octopunct” shape surrounding the word mark has been turned into punctuation and containers for the animal illustrations.

I was curious to get Studio DRAMA’s perspective on this project and more. My short Q&A with Chris Nott is below.

The RSPCA’s old brand has evolved from staid and somewhat cold into a bold and friendly identity. How does Wilberforce Sans help the larger brand communicate the urgency of the issue while also inviting people in?

Type plays a crucial role in shaping a brand’s voice, enabling it to communicate effectively with diverse audiences. For the RSPCA, the challenge for us was to craft a typeface that could convey both lighthearted and serious messaging, capturing the essence of their new positioning: ‘Rallying Humanity for Animals’.

The brief led us to the concept of a ‘Trusted Authoritarian’ voice. To delve deeper into this, we explored the typographic nuances of hand-drawn and woodblock printed protest placards and posters. Given the RSPCA’s rich history of activism and advocacy for animal welfare, this direction felt both natural and apt.

Our research into the RSPCA’s brand archives revealed typefaces that had also been used in protest contexts. This connection enriched the brand narrative, creating a stronger link between the RSPCA’s historical activism and its current branding.

A key aspect of our design approach was establishing two distinct typographic voices.

The primary voice for the core brand identity is predominantly uppercase, reflecting the brand’s bold, impactful, and urgent side. We ensured that the uppercase letterforms exuded authority through their bold and condensed structure, reinforcing the brand’s authoritative presence. Trustworthiness is conveyed by incorporating features inspired by the British grotesque style, such as enclosed apertures and terminals. These characteristics not only add a touch of playfulness to a rigid structure but also resonate with the brand’s serious yet approachable tone. Additionally, the softer details, like the ink traps, were inspired by the new illustration style, further infusing a more approachable and cohesive feel.

The secondary voice was designed to capture the lighter, more human and approachable side of the RSPCA. We developed a lowercase set featuring playful, almost ‘animal-like’ characters, such as the lowercase ‘g’.

This dualistic approach allows the RSPCA to communicate the gravity of animal welfare issues while also inviting the public to engage and connect with their mission.

A key aspect of our design approach was establishing two distinct typographic voices. This dualistic approach allows the RSPCA to communicate the gravity of animal welfare issues while also inviting the public to engage and connect with their mission.

Chris Nott, Creative Director, Studio DRAMA

In the last few years, we’ve seen many centuries-old institutions undertake major rebranding efforts, many of which lean heavily on iconography and type. Is this simply a trend? Or is there something more fundamental happening around the role of institutions and brands (or type) in society?

Both Will and I have over a decade of experience working in branding agencies. During this time, we’ve witnessed a significant shift in the role of custom type in branding, which led us to decide that it should be a core offering in our own business.

We’d go as far to say that type was often considered an afterthought in branding projects. However, it has now moved to the forefront, reflecting the evolving importance of typography in brand identity.

In today’s information-saturated landscape, brands are striving to be more distinctive and memorable. With the desire to own more than just a logo, the focus has expanded to include the very words they use. By crafting distinctive and recognisable typography, whether that’s through custom type or an ownable typographic approach, brands can establish a strong identity that resonates even when the logo is absent. 

In this context, if a brand can own the very words in which they communicate, making them distinctive enough to be recognisable without the logo, does it not become a compelling strategy to pursue?

Can you talk about your ethos as a partner foundry? How does this differentiate what Studio Drama does?

Both sides of the studio go hand-in-hand, complementing and enriching each other.

With a background in branding, we bring a strategic mindset to every custom typeface project we undertake. We not only design typefaces but also understand how they should be utilised. More often than not, we assist in creating guidelines on the optimal use of the typeface, whether it’s a single style display font or a comprehensive super family.

On the studio side, we aim to incorporate some element of custom type, whether that’s a bespoke logotype or mark, or a full custom typeface family.

On the foundry side, we bring our brand-first approach to type design, ensuring that our custom typefaces are not only visually compelling but also strategically aligned and effectively utilised.

What’s your dream partner project? Or, what are your favorite projects you’ve done on the foundry side (besides working with JKR on RSPCA, of course!)?

When it comes to dream projects, that’s a tough question! We’re currently in the midst of bringing one to life as we speak…

We thrive on collaboration, especially with other agencies and creative teams. This enables us to leverage our expertise in type design, invigorating and enhancing the broader brand exercise. If any teams are on the lookout for a type partner, just drop us a line!

As for favourite projects, Vogue Brasil definitely stands out. It was a dream from start to finish, not only because of the compelling brief but also due to the exceptional client relationship. This small but impactful project has opened numerous opportunities for us. It’s amazing the doors that type can open!

The Two Type System, like the studio’s other parametric typefaces, pushes the shapes and relationships of letters to the precise point where they obstruct or deny the reading process while still conforming to the conventional arrangements of language, illustrating the idea that form and content interconnect like muscle and bone.

Muir and McNeil see ideas as the results of discovery rather than invention and consider themselves graphic designers who create type, rather than traditional type designers. Using the options available through the mathematical algorithms of digital design, they continue historical typographic experimentation as has always existed, enabled by the technology of the moment. For instance, designers printing with metal type used multiple passes through the press to play with composition, layering, and legibility. When phototypesetting was introduced, everybody pulled and distorted the type negative as it was exposed to light to create weird, funky, one-of-a-kind effects. The 1990 typeface Beowulf, by Erik van Blokland and Just van Rossum, swapped the PostScript programming commands “lineto” and “curveto” with a new command “freakto,” to generate letterforms with spontaneously random outlines.

We prefer finding new forms and outputs by building extensive root-and-branch systems rather than working within the limits of short-term individual expressions. For us, the notion of individual creativity tends to emphasize the maker rather than the form.

Hamish Muir

What if … ? is one of the most powerful questions in design because it’s directed towards unknown possibilities. By systematically adjusting individual conditions within a defined design space—progressively resetting components, positions, colors, angles, and so forth—the designers exerted a sort of calibrated prescience to the process while embracing errors that led in unexpectedly fruitful directions. While many forms are highly abstract, others are completely legible; the Type Two System is not just a laboratory experiment. MuirMcNeil used it for the flexible but instantly recognizable identity for TypeCon2016, expressed in black and a stunning neon green, lending a future-forward look to the event.

The Two Type System’s systemic yet unexpected results require a willingness to cede control that can be scary for designers, especially if they feel their creative agency diminished. It’s difficult for many to let go of the decision-making so crucial to design and open themselves to chance. Still, trusting in the process can yield delightful and pleasing results. Muir says, “We prefer finding new forms and outputs by building extensive root-and-branch systems rather than working within the limits of short-term individual expressions. For us, the notion of individual creativity tends to emphasize the maker rather than the form.”

The saying “Printing is always a surprise” is a solid truth, in that unplanned (often unwanted) outcomes can and frequently do happen on press. System Process Form is a beautifully printed and thoughtfully planned volume using spot colors overlaid atop one another rather than the more typical four-color printing process. Print designers know that spot colors are impossible to preview accurately on monitors during the design process or even as prepress proofs, yet a vital component of the Two Type System’s DNA is the element of chance. This leads a viewer to wonder how the authors handled that aspect of the completed book in advance—were there any hitches in the print production? Was this, perhaps, the one place where surprises were not embraced but instead methodically eliminated? Surprisingly, no.

McNeil says, “We knew that overprinting three neon inks would be risky and early digital proof simulations proved to be uninformative. Test prints made on production offset-litho machines revealed a vivid new palette – in particular, a ‘neon eggplant’ color made by overprinting neon pink, yellow and blue. It was a totally unexpected result of the process and a very pleasing one.” An admirably bold move! Surprise for the win.

All photography © MuirMcNeil.

Universal Principles of Typography (UPoT), a new book by Elliot Jay Stocks —published by Quarto and out today— answers this and so much more. The book’s 100 principles cover everything from the tactical to the compositional, sometimes pausing for the philosophical.

In the foreword by Ellen Lupton, author of the book on type, (and our guest for the next PRINT Book Club), we love how she explains the breadth of what Stocks has endeavored to do with UPoT:

“Typographic knowledge is an awkward mix of science (how people read), technology (what fonts can do), superstition (what folks believe on faith), hard-and-fast-rules (what editors and publishers have codified over time), and unspoken body language (how designers wiggle and fidget inside the rules, inventing new styles and mannerisms). Elliot explores all these forms of knowledge with pictures and words, helping designers navigate the facts and the fictions, and build their own typographic confidence.”

Stocks is a designer, writer, speaker, and musician living in Bristol, UK. He’s a former creative director for Adobe Typekit, creator of two printed publications (8 Faces and Lagom), and, in 2020, he teamed up with Google Fonts to create Google Fonts Knowledge.

To celebrate the launch of Universal Principles of Typography, Stocks indulged me by answering several type-related questions. Read the Q&A below.

Of all the principles of typography, what is your favorite, the one that you can’t unsee, the one that brings you joy when you see it in action?

There’s a chapter very early on in the book called “Avoid faux (or synthesised) styles” and that might be one of my favourites, purely because the web (and, to a lesser extent, print) is littered with faux italics and the like. As it says in the book, “sure, a faux italic never killed anyone, but it will certainly make you or your client look like you don’t care about doing things properly — and that’s rarely a message clients want to send.” I feel like that could be applied to typography as a whole: these things might seem pedantic at times, but cutting corners is ultimately going to have a negative impact on the end result.

Similarly, of all the principles of typography you laid out, what is one or two that have the power to change the way graphic designers view and compose their work (not just text)?

Probably the principle called “Balance distinction & harmony” because it can be applied to typography, or to design as a whole, or to pretty much any creative output. It’s important to remember that when we change something (a font weight, a column width, a note in a song), we’ve got to make sure that it’s distinct from the element it sits next to — the end user has to recognise it as a something different and then, having observed that, infer meaning from it; a meaning such as hierarchy, or perhaps just a feeling. But at the same time we need to ensure that the change we’re making still plays nicely with the other elements. So in typography, for instance, we might use a scale to define our different font sizes, but of course we also use scales in music. The idea is the same: make it obvious that there’s been a change, but give the user some context so that the change is a harmonious one.

We’ve been enjoying Elle Cordova’s anthropomorphic font videos. So, I’m curious: if you were personified by a typeface, which one would it be and why?

Oh, the number of non-type friends who sent me those videos! If I was a typeface, I’d probably be the recently released Bricolage Grotesque, designed by Mathieu Triay. It’s capable of some solid, useful work, but generally doesn’t take itself too seriously because it knows that having fun with the work is more important.

Given AI’s presence in our conversations about what graphic design and art-making will be in the future, do you have a 101st principle to offer on that topic as it relates to typography’s role or responsibility?

As with almost anything AI is touching right now, there’s the potential for it to make our lives easier — imagine a typographic AI assistant to help you pair type, perhaps working in the same way GitHub Copilot might help engineers code. But also there’s the potential for it to make poor decisions and then use its own poor decisions as reference points, flooding the internet with bad type and worse typography. My good friend Jamie Clarke recently wrote an article about this, and argued for us designers acting as tastemakers to help steer AI development in the right direction. Personally, I still flip-flop daily between being for or against AI, but ultimately it’s too huge a development to simplify in that way. It’s a bit like being for or against the internet. It’s going to change our life and work radically; as creatives and as humans, we need to position ourselves as best we can to benefit from its promises and help reduce the potential for its misuse.

Want more? Elliot Jay Stocks shares his love of all things typography as host of the podcast, Hello, type friends! and author of the newsletter, Typographic & Sporadic.

In my last post, I talked about typography as poetry, describing my brief exposure to commercial art through my neighbor. At the time, I mentioned my interest to some of my older friends. They discouraged me from pursuing commercial art because “it was a male-dominated field.” Today, like other professions, graphic design—formerly known as commercial art—is mainly composed of women. Data USA shows that 53.7% of American graphic designers are women.

On that note, I am sharing a small selection of the female designers I have admired. When I started in design, I did not know much. Thus, I studied others’ graphic design work and sometimes other design areas like architecture.

One of the first female designers who caught my attention was Rosemarie Tissi. I specifically remember her work for „Offset“ for the printing company A. Schöb, in 1982 (back of a folder—second image down).

I looked at the typography of this image for hours. I was fascinated with how Tissi used these big, chunky letters to create the offset printer and her use of color and negative space. In a word, I was mesmerized by how the O captures the eye and moves it from the F to the E by gradually changing the color tone and playing with size. She uses the strong horizontal the T provides to arrange the letters, making the eye move from O to T seamlessly. One still reads the word offset; nothing more is needed to understand it. Tissi takes advantage of the natural eye movement from left to right to connect the word and image in our mind organically. I was and still am fascinated.

The second female designer whose work stopped me when I saw it was April Greiman’s. I had the opportunity to see her talk in Carbondale, IL, in 2005. I have never forgotten that talk. There was a desire to search in Greiman’s narrative as she told the story of her career, which resonated with me profoundly. I wished I had talked to her afterward. Her work would leave me speechless. The elements dance in the space in almost every design she creates. I had not seen work like that when I started to study design. I remember learning the grid and alignments, but Greiman’s work turned on a lightbulb. The page becomes a stage for the performers in her work. Her ideas about how design works on a printed page influenced me the most in my perception of space, page, and type.

Jennifer Sterling has influenced the way I see and perceive typography. The typography in her work is like something that floats on the page, like a lightweight feather that moves and turns. Her work is experimental and pushes the limits of the page and even motion. We expect to see the letters moving in a certain way, but in her work, the typography can and will take unexpected turns. Sometimes, Sterling incorporates shapes and elements to enhance ideas and the typographic movement.

Architect Zaya Hadid’s work makes me look twice. She passed in 2016, and it is a loss. You should visit Hadid’s website to explore her designs. This quote from her site summarizes how I feel about her work and why I admire it:

…the beauty and virtuosity within her work is married to meaning. Her architecture is inventive, original and civic, offering generous public spaces that are clearly organized and intuitive to navigate

Zaha Hadid

Below is one of Hadid’s designs: the Eli and Edythe Broad Art Museum at Michigan State University. The building seems to want to levitate or fly away. It is simply impressive.

My interest in these designers stems from an admiration for defying the constraints innate to the materials they use playfully. Whether paper, digital, or spatial, these designers don’t just capture the movement in a frame; it feels like the designer is mentally dancing with their design at that moment. There is an organic and symbiotic dialogue between the design and the designer. These works are not void of meaning or purpose or are frivolously pushing the limits. These works result from a deep understanding and even acceptance of the constraints and limitations. Rather than succumbing to those, they embrace these parameters to birth work that seemingly defies its nature. Yet, it is not a rebellious defiance. It is a dance of give and take, a dance of conversation, and a dance of creation.

Of course, I can mention more designers. There are many others who have shaped the way I think about design in one way or another. However, these four designers have what I look for in my work in common: movement. When I started to study design, it was their work that captured my interest, and it still does.

Alma Hoffmann is a freelance designer, design educator, author of Sketching as Design Thinking, and editor at Smashing Magazine. This is an edited version of an original post on Temperamental amusing shenanigans, Alma’s Substack dedicated to design, life, and everything in between.

Header image © Alma Hoffmann; cyanotype painted with watercolor and ink, quote from Adam Crews.

This year’s festival, which runs from June 10 through June 18, offers a Conference (June 14-15), a Workshop/Tour series, a Type Lab (demos, interviews, and more), a Book Fair, and many more paid and free events. Registration for the main stage conference is on sale now at a highly discounted early bird rate, which runs until April 30.

Typographics brings together global perspectives in web and app design, publication design, book design, type design, packaging, branding, corporate identity, advertising, motion graphics, information design, and hand and digital lettering. The festival focuses on typography and its future, so the speaker line-up includes emerging and established designers and programming designed to foster inclusive dialogue.

Typographics is organized by Type@Cooper, the leading post-graduate degree program in typeface design, the Herb Lubalin Study Center of Design and Typography, a graphic design archive housing more than 6,000 pieces of design ephemera, and The Cooper Union School of Art.

Arthur Szyk (pronounced “schick”) was a Polish émigré who was known in the United States for his cover portraits for Colliers and Time, cartoons for the New York Post and Esquire, and a large body of images on various Judaic and secular themes. As one of the most prolific visual satirists of his day, his World War II anti-fascist imagery had a visceral impact on viewers that was comparable to Goya’s Disasters of War. But Szyk’s mission went beyond topical satire; he employed art as an engine of spiritual transcendence and human liberation. A victim of anti-Semitism in his native country, he was forced to move to France and later to the U.S. Still, he fervently fought for a free Polish state as both soldier and artist, and later devoted his energies to freeing Palestine from British rule and building a Jewish state. Almost all of his works, even the numerous books of fairytales and fables he illustrated, were imbued with appeals for universal social justice. “To call Szyk a ‘cartoonist’ is tantamount to calling Rembrandt a ‘dauber’ or Chippendale a ‘carpenter,’” declared an editorial in a 1942 Esquire.

By the late 1970s, Szyk’s impressive body of work, which painstakingly wedded the highly crafted detailing of Persian-style miniatures to the symbolic acuity of iconic Renaissance masterpieces, was all but forgotten by contemporary critics, as impeccable draftsmanship had been made unfashionable during the ’70s and ’80s. Nonetheless, a Szyk renaissance seemed to be waiting for someone with a passion for his work. That someone was Irvin Ungar, a former rabbi, who in 1987 became an antiquarian book dealer and was dumbstruck by the work of the Polish émigré illustrator.

Since then, Ungar has devoted himself to Szyk’s resurrection. He founded The Szyk Society, a not-for-profit organization. He has used his pulpit skills to fire interest among scholars, promote history papers, and develop an ongoing exhibition program. The Society website szyk.org aims “to move Szyk,” says Ungar, “forward into public consciousness.”

He curated his first exhibition, Justice Illuminated: The Art of Arthur Szyk, at the Spertus Museum in Chicago. Numerous one-man exhibitions followed, each with different themes and works of art: Arthur Szyk: Artist for Freedom at The Library of Congress (2000), The Art & Politics of Arthur Szyk at The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (2002), a traveling exhibition to three cities in Poland (2005), Arthur Szyk: Drawings Against National Socialism and Terror at The German Historical Museum (2008), and Arthur Szyk: Miniature Paintings and Modern Illuminations at The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, Palace of the Legion of Honor (2011).

“Art is not my aim, it is my means,” Szyk said about his metier. And this opens another important aspect of Syzk’s means of communication, an aspect of his pictorial language that has been not ignored but less celebrated than his pictorial means: The exquisite handlettering and gestural calligraphy that is such a seamlessly, essential part of his graphic output and visual legacy.

Herein is a range of Latin, Blackletter and Hebrew alphabets (he also rendered in Arabic and Chinese). These examples reveal not just his reverence for and mastery of classical lettermaking but a deliberate blend of the old and new. In The Great Halleil, the Hebrew letter is composed in such a manner that it is positively moderne. The dynamic layout of Le-Fikhakh-Therefore is the envy of any contemporary typographer. The duality of past and present goes throughout his work, which underscores the magnificence of Szyk’s unique hand.

Author’s note: Syzk’s lettering is one of the many forms discussed in Izzy Pludwinski’s excellent Beauty of the Hebrew Letter: From Sacred Scrolls to Graffiti.

Conran Design Group (CDG), a prominent brand and design consultancy under Havas — one of the world’s largest global communications groups — has unveiled a distinctive new brand identity. Positioned as Havas’ flagship brand and design network, CDG introduces an exciting purpose: design to inspire progress.

This purpose is not just a tagline but a guiding philosophy shaping every aspect of Conran Design Group’s identity. The brand adopts a striking typographic approach spearheaded by Jean François Porchez, a French type designer recognized for his work with Le Monde and the type for the French Olympic team. The new logo emphasizes that design is central to business and everyday life. Meanwhile, bold iconography captures the essence of its diverse locations, showcasing the brand’s global presence.

The rebranding effort extends beyond aesthetics, reflecting an evolved proposition that integrates sustainability across its offerings. With a renewed focus on brand strategy, design, experience design, and communications, CDG aims to deliver meaningful progress for businesses, individuals, and society.

“Fundamentally, the new brand places design at the heart of the offer; it’s central to our name, history, and future and reflects an unwavering belief that progress needs to be designed. The new marque, with the D at the centre of the C, is at the core of the identity and a shorthand for our positioning. It feels confident, full of personality, and culturally relevant,” says Lee Hoddy, Executive Creative Director.

The launch of Conran Design Group’s new brand identity aligns with the introduction of Citizen Brands, a study and accompanying framework designed to help brand leaders achieve balanced growth in an unbalanced world. The study offers a comprehensive brand and design strategy to guide leaders in creating brand experiences catering to both individual preferences and societal good.

CDG’s reinvigorated identity reaffirms its legacy and propels it into a new era of creativity and impact. With its unwavering belief in the power of design to drive positive change, Conran Design Group seeks to continue shaping the future of brands.

At our next PRINT Book Club, Debbie Millman and Steven Heller will chat with beloved design educator Ellen Lupton about the new edition of her seminal book, Thinking With Type.

Lupton’s bestselling book is an essential guide to using typography in visual communication for everyone: designers, writers, editors, students, anyone who works with words on page or screen, and enthusiasts of type and lettering. Now in it’s third edition (March 2024), Thinking With Type has been expanded to include:

• More fonts: old fonts, new fonts, weird fonts, libre fonts, Google fonts, Adobe fonts, fonts from independent foundries, and fonts and lettering by women and BIPOC designers
• Introductions to diverse writing systems, contributed by expert typographers from around the world
• Demonstrations of basic design principles, such as visual balance, Gestalt grouping, and responsive layout
• Current approaches to typeface design, including, variable fonts and optical sizes and tips for readability, legibility, and accessibility
• Stunning reproductions from the Letterform Archive

Thinking with Type is to typography what Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time is to physics.

I Love Typography

Ellen Lupton is a designer, writer, and educator. In addition to Thinking With Type, her other books include Design Is Storytelling, Graphic Design Thinking, Health Design Thinking, and Extra Bold: A Feminist, Inclusive, Anti-Racist, Nonbinary Field Guide for Graphic Designers. She teaches in the Graphic Design MFA program at Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore (MICA), where she serves as the Betty Cooke and William O. Steinmetz Design Chair. She is Curator Emerita at Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum in New York City, where her exhibitions included Herbert Bayer: Bauhaus Master and The Senses: Design Beyond Vision.

Don’t miss our conversation with Ellen Lupton, hosted by Debbie Millman and Steven Heller, on Thursday, April 25 at 4 PM ET! Register for the live stream discussion and visit our Bookshop.org shop to buy your copy of Thinking With Type.

But this is a story about type!

Future London Academy is based in its namesake city, one of the world’s most diverse and vibrant. Therefore, when creating a visual identity for its new program, any old typeface wouldn’t do. So, in-house designer Polina Kirei devised a custom type system: DLX Future.

Each character of DLX Future conveys the diversity of design leadership with a unique style and personality. Yet, every letter is built on the same foundation of five shapes: circle, square, triangle, rectangle, and a wriggle wire.

Each letter, just like each person, is unique and has been designed together with the Design Leaders Alumni. Fuzzy, sharp, or whimsical… you can feel the personality within each letter.

Future London Academy

DLX needed its identity to celebrate the diversity of design experience. It also desired a flexible and collaborative type system that could scale over time. One of the coolest aspects of the new system is that it changes year to year, with DLX alumni contributing a custom glyph upon graduation.

We love DLX Future because it could be the poster child for the type exuberance we showcased in our 2024 Typography Report: A Circus of Type.

I consider myself a polygyphist: a person who is fluent in graphic linguistics. Typoglyphics is the language of phonetic and hieroglyphic (among other glyphic) forms. As Norman Conquest (aka Derek Pell, aka Doktor Bey) points out in the recent number of his niche zine TYPO, there is so much joy to be found in dead languages, the least of which is: The reader cannot find the typos. Since my living prose is riven with typos (prior to editing), I am anxious to become expert in what Conquest calls determinative hieroglyphics.

This “Typoglyphics” article in TYPO: An International Journal of Prototypes (No. 5) is a clever means to pull significance out of two seemingly disparate themes—letters/words and meaning, versus the infallibility of mythic goddesses. Conquest enjoys mixing and matching intellectually stimulating historic material with contemporary concerns. “Typo,” which in most of our half-used-brains suggests a mistake, is in Conquest’s editorial vocabulary an umbrella for the combination of variegated types of information. The themes of the essays he chooses to publish, as suggested by the recognizable and not-so-known names on the cover, indicate that the eclecticism herein is not as far afield of our fixations on typographic mystery as one might think.

This is the pressing question begged by comic Elle Cordova’s hysterically perceptive font impression videos, which took Design Internet by storm at the beginning of the year. Cordova released a series of videos on her Instagram in which she put on the personas of some of our industry’s most well-known and frequently used typefaces as they hang out with each other, from Times New Roman to Courier to Impact. In her first skit, she cleverly implies a flirtation between the noted sans serifs Arial and Helvetica, and even drops a “Grotesk” knee-slapper. Papyrus makes a goofy cameo in each, along with Dingbats, Calibri, and others.

The PRINT team couldn’t get enough of these videos, and we wanted to get in on the fun! We decided to reflect on the typefaces we most identify with in terms of personality and aura, and each chose one we thought captured our essence the best. Our selections are below!

Debbie Millman is Peignot.

I have a silly favorite typeface; it is Peignot. It was the headline font I used in college at the student newspaper, which is where I first learned about design. AND (as importantly) it was the centerpiece of the opening of one of the greatest sitcoms of all time, The Mary Tyler Moore Show. According to the Museum of Broadcasting, the show was a revolutionary breakthrough, and featured Mary Richards as the first never-married, independent career woman as the central character. As Mary Richards, a single woman in her thirties, Moore presented a character different from other single TV women of the time. She was not widowed or divorced or seeking a man to support her.

Steven Heller is Bestial Bold.

Bestial Bold designed by Seymour Chwast fits me to a cap T. In fact, to a S-T-E-V-E-N. The A represents the young bold, swaggering hippie. The B suggests a post-hippie maturity (and weight gain); the C is the self-doubting introverted beast in me.

Kim Tidwell is Carose.

I’m a sucker for clear, open typefaces with a little something left of center (like me). And ampersands. Carose has a lovely one that propels forward. As of late, I find myself growing out of my long-term relationship with Futura and seeking a little movement. Carose’s friendly, flowy horizontals and descenders make me feel like rolling the top down, throwing out the map, and setting off to some unknown destination.

Laura Des Enfants is Garamond +Times New Roman.

I’m so disappointed that I cannot be Helvetica, but I‘m just not that classically cool. I fall between Times New Roman and Garamond. I want to be completely Garamond (or Bodoni) who seems like someone who’s “been there, done that,” but is not completely jaded. Plus, it’s Garamond! I like anyone who can say “darling” and doesn’t sound completely ridiculous.

Deb Aldrich is Comic Sans.

Do you remember the game app, “Type: Rider”? It came out in 2013, and I used to play it at the start of every plane ride I was on. You had to move a colon punctuation mark through typeface chapters. The last chapter was Comic Sans— it was goofy, it was hard, it had a kitten in it. Need I say more?

I know it’s not appropriate in every occasion (sound familiar)? But, Comic Sans usually means well.

Amelia Nash is Black Mango.

Trying to find a font I most identify with turned out to be a bigger challenge than I anticipated. How do you pick ONE font from the oodles that exist? So like any other self-respecting Millennial, I turned to a Buzzfeed quiz to find out “Which Font Matches [My] Personality Perfectly”. After overthinking the questions and sweating over the best responses for me, Buzzfeed churned out Black Mango by Creative Media Lab. Mangoes happen to be my favorite fruit, so I took it as a sign. “Just like this font, you are a unique twist on a classic. You say just enough without saying too much. Just beautiful.”

I’ll take it. And as it turns out, I really do love this font.

Charlotte Beach is Motter Ombra.

I consider myself bubbly and spunky with a retro flair, just like the wonderful Motter Ombra (Othmar Motter, 1972). There are traces of class expressed through the letters’ over-sized and bulbous serifs, but quirkiness and fun ultimately win the day, which is a ratio I deeply identify with.

When I returned to college I was taking classes with students who had a working knowledge of the computer and software. Some had been exposed to design in high school. My experience was different. For once, it had never occurred to me that typography could be more than a functional and utilitarian tool at the service of language. Graphic design and typography was not something I knew. Before computers, graphic design was commonly addressed as commercial art. My neighbor back home, was a commercial artist at Sears. He showed me the weekly shoppers that they’d do in the studio.

What my heart desired, was to be an architect. Though that did not work out, I could see the poetry in designing buildings, their lines in the space, the spaces with natural light, and the flow and dance of each side in its surroundings. Especially around the ocean. My grandmother was a nurse at a hospital across the street of the ocean. That contrast was remarkable to me. The sterile floors and walls against the breeze and smell of the sea made for memorable memories. But typography did not evoke any feelings for me. I knew nothing about typography.

Eventually I started to see that typography is much more than a utilitarian tool in service of language. There is an eloquence and an art to it, a finesse. And maybe even, a love affair. In many ways it is like architecture. Instead of designing buildings in the space, we design words that dance in the space. How did I come to see typography this way? It was not without its bumps and failures. I needed to be guided to learn to look, to learn to think, and to learn to design. I did not know what I needed and thus, I did not know what to ask. One instructor however, said something to me that changed my perception of typography. Her name is Cheri Ure.

My sketches and computer iterations while I was working on a type and image project back then, were less than stellar. In a critique, Cheri approached me and said:

“How would you say these words out loud if you were rehearsing to be cast in a play that you wanted really, really, bad? How would you intonate them? Where would your emphasis be? Do it alone in your house, and take note of how your tone changes and that is where the visual hierarchy is.“

Those words resonated with me profoundly. I started to repeat the words of my text over and over. I even had music going on in my mind. I started to get a hint of how typography is poetry. I started to see the words not as utilitarian tools but as something that makes an image out of meaning. It exhilarated me.

There are many aspects of typography but poetry, visual poetry has to be included as one of them. Of course, we can discuss its function. As many famous designers have stated, typography’s primary function is to make a language visible. On that note, let’s imagine all of us talking to each other in a dry, plain, matter of fact, utilitarian, and monotone voice. No changes in intonation, no changes in pitch, and no changes to express sadness or happiness. Reading in a monotone voice. Laughing in a monotone manner. Praying in a monotone state. Telling each other how much we love each other in a monotone voice. But monotone is not how we are or act, is it?

If function is all we understand about typography and it was something similar to what is on the dreaded tax forms, how dry things would be!

Typography is then more than a tool. Typography expresses the lyricism of the language, conveys the meaning of our words, communicates the love we profess for another, and visually captures meaning to make words sing, flow, fly, dance, and emote. If function is all we understand about typography and it was something similar to how is displayed on the dreaded tax forms, how dry things would be!

Typography unifies language with meaning in a tangible manner. Sometimes it can even be visceral connection elevating our words to a phenomenological experience.

To say that I have grown to love typography is an understatement. I am obsessed with it. I see letters and experience feelings, thoughts, ideas, and reactions. I see nuances that others can’t and I feel them vividly. All because the one metaphor that unlocked something in me and allowed me to see what I was not able to see before.

I will share below the before and after of the project I was working on when Cheri helped me. I keep these because they remind me that unlike color and shape, it takes a change of mind to understand typography. The text was from Luke 18. It talks about letting the children go and talk to Jesus and not to hinder them. I wanted to convey that sometimes being transparent as a child is the best way to be.

I still want to learn more typography. There is so much to learn.

The before:

And after I started to understand typography as poetry:

I learned that typographic control in the space—be it on a page, on a webpage, on an app, on a banner, or on a billboard— is essential. Much like the ballerina learns to control her poses, moves, arms, and body to move gracefully, typographic control is needed to make the words dance on the page. We learn control by studying it in a combination of observing and practicing. We learn because that is what we are wired to do. Speed is irrelevant.

Typography, well executed typography is to me the poetry we need to sprinkle our lives with. After all, typography unifies language with meaning in a tangible manner. Sometimes it can even be visceral connection elevating our words to a phenomenological experience.

Alma Hoffmann is a freelance designer, design educator, author of Sketching as Design Thinking, and editor at Smashing Magazine. This was originally posted on Temperamental amusing shenanigans, Alma’s Substack dedicated to design, life, and everything in between.

All imagery © Alma Hoffmann.

The Typecraft Initiative Trust launched in 2011 to engender avenues for greater exchange between urban graphic designers and rural craftspeople. It started as a way to celebrate the rich handmade crafts (and tribal arts) of South Asia in the digital avatar of a typeface. 

Here, Khosla—a graduate of SVA MFA Design, where his thesis involved the creation of a design school in India—talks about Typecraft’s with craftspeople and type.

Why did you start Typecraft?
The idea of making fonts was chosen because of various reasons. Firstly, when I moved back to India from the States in 2008, graphic design to be seemed disconnected from any sort of Indian sensibility—whether literally in terms of the rich visual culture of the country, or metaphorically in terms of what it meant to be Indian in that zeitgeist. I saw this as an opportunity to bring something deeper than kitsch Bollywood or truck art that most people outside India thought Indian graphic design was about. Secondly, returning to my country of origin for the first time since becoming a designer made me want to learn more about its people—the “everyday” Indian in urban centers like Delhi, but also the people of village and small-town India. I traveled across the country, and I would use this as a way to explore new ways of working between a Western-educated designer such as myself and people who work on the street, such as carpenters, metalsmiths and even henna temporary tattoo art.

Some of the work I did was exploratory and got shown at art exhibitions, while others got used in numerous book covers that I used to design in those days. Thirdly, I launched Typecraft because I wanted to work with something that has a functional basis that can be used by people anywhere in the world—to build greater understanding and empathy between people across the globe. Apart from fonts, we have also worked on short digital animations for a village school website. The artworks of the animation are based on a folk art of Mithila that is usually done on village mud walls and floors during festivals and marriages. Finally, and most importantly, I wanted the craftspeople and tribal artists themselves to realize the true value, relevance and significance of their culture and its transformative qualities even in the digital and AI-driven world we live in today! This is especially [important] as many of [them] come from poor backgrounds that don’t always value their own tradition, art and belief systems, and who aspire to migrate to large cities or even to the West.

The creation of typefaces/fonts from a folk craft or indigenous tribal art (these terms will henceforth be used interchangeably) is unprecedented (to my knowledge). Lettering from craft has been done before, but never before had a full-fledged functioning font. And while we started out with Latin script letters, we have diversified to Devanagari (Indic scripts) and Arabic. However, I have to stress the fact that the latter is way more complex than the Latin typefaces due to the extremely large number of nodes and character sets, hence the heaviness of the font file!

The idea—for this interaction between these disparate groups of people (urban and rural) that seldom talk to each other, let alone work with each other—came to me while working on my MFA Design thesis (at the School of Visual Arts in 2004–2005) that looked at the creation of a design school in India that combined rural and urban visual languages but also would bring students from across India’s diverse landscape under one roof. Termed DeSI—or Design School India, it translates as “one’s own country” and also forms the first four letters of the word design. The thesis emphasized the need for design students in a country such as India to be equipped to address sociocultural needs such as illiteracy, while collaborating with the rich craft and vernacular art (including Bollywood and truck art) communities of South Asia without being patronizing (as many designers tend to be). Students graduating from even the most expensive D school today are extremely ill-equipped and insensitive to the politics at work when working with craftspeople, and design pedagogy remains highly colonized (and frozen) in countries such as India. 

Typecraft started where DeSI left off—to see things from the perspective of the craftsperson, and the importance of collaborating with them and using design thinking workshops as a rare chance for makers to be paid to experiment, fail and learn as they usually are given tasks, and sadly many times the final design is just implemented by outsiders (designers or companies). The workshops are also a way for them to teach us folks from the urban centers, while we promote experimentation, risk-taking and innovative approaches using the materials they already work with. Many of them have told us that they never get to work this way. 

The workshops are the true heart of the entire Typecraft process—going from a craft (such as embroidery) or a tribal art (like a tattoo) to letters and eventually the typeface. We work in a manner that is not top-down and patronizing, which is why each project requires some tweaking in terms of how to deal with disparate groups of people, in terms of their relationship with the opposite sex, how they work with materials and how much experimentation they might or might not have done before. We also learned that while most tattoo artist can draw very well, most craftspeople working with textiles (embroideries, weaves, appliqué, etc.) struggled to draw—as the designs are in their minds. This is an interesting challenge to overcome, so I bring this way of working back into the D schools I work with, where students so used to Google search and 100s of drawing tools and software have to first imagine the design or use other tools to come up with the solution. 

In the craft workshop, we bring in paper-based tools to mimic the craft to make it easier to design quick and dirty—as the same thing done with embroidery could take up to two days just to get one letter! (And a letter that might not work!)

How did you find and recruit the craftspeople and tribal artists that you work with?
These people are not recruited but instead people we collaborate with. We sometimes meet the craftspeople or tribal artists at various craft melas or haats (bazaars/markets) that happen in big cities like Delhi, but also in smaller towns and villages. Or we get connected to these groups through an NGO working with them already.

W

You’ve said this is a way to bring money to the communities.
The Typecraft Initiative Trust is a not-for-profit foundation solely surviving on funding through grants and CSR funds. Money is brought into the communities initially through workshops that we conduct over a period of one to two weeks. Sometimes the workshops are repeated again if we need more results or if we work with the same group for different scripts or styles (such as a lowercase) of a typeface.

Many times, we go out of pocket to cover these workshops, in which we not only try to involve as many people from the community as possible to share the wealth but critically, we never bargain on their prices, and are usually paying rates that are higher than even local NGOs that have been working in the region for much longer than us. Once the font is ready and starts to make a sale, we need to first cover our costs that include our travel, stay, material costs, craftspersons costs (if not already covered by the grant), intern and employee fees, photographer fees and promotional fees. After this a royalty between 20–40% is given to the craftspeople.

We also make donations in the form of older computers, furniture, etc., to craftspeople that are in need of these things. During periods of high stress for craftspeople, such as during the COVID pandemic, we also give loans or royalties upfront with craftspeople we have already worked with. In one case, we started a project during COVID with a group of craftspeople, as they didn’t have any work for months.

What have you learned from this experience?
A lot! Humility and the value of indigenous design. The value of collaboration. And what does it mean to challenge the field of both graphic design and craft—for which this project is a true outlier. It is on the edge of functionality and legibility key to design, and it doesn’t possess the materiality that craft seeks even though each project starts by hand-making in the craft and material usually used by the community.

I learned that type design can be a way to bring people together, to do good for communities and the planet and also a way for graphic and type design to “redeem themselves” from their entrapment with corporate and industrialized mass production. 

The key challenge remains how to make this an impactful project where the community themselves use the font—as part of their craft, but also in educating their children in an alphabet based on their own craft or tribal art.

Do you plan on expanding and otherwise transforming the workshops?
The workshops for the craftspeople form the core of the Typecraft process. 

What is critical in these workshops is:

• To ensure learning is not one way and not “top-down”—that we outsiders and transgressors can also learn from the community, their wisdom, their culture and craft.
• Many of the people we work with don’t know how to draft—they know the designs in their minds and can directly embroidery, weave or tie-dye them onto cloth or the material they work with. While processes are valued by us, they are time-consuming to implement. As we know, the initial stages of design require experimentation and making lots of explorations that allow for failure and learning. This means that for each workshop we need to do our homework and prepare an easy to manipulate and cheap “design kit” that allows the craftspeople to manipulate these to mimic their crafts quickly and in facile manner. 
• An example is the kit we create for the Soof embroidery women, made of different sizes of right-angle triangles, diamonds, parallelograms, that mimic the designs in the craft itself. This allows the craftspeople to make fundamental forms like curves, straights and diagonals in a quick manner and translate those to letterforms.

Where we are expanding these workshops is to bring these into the design school classroom. Design students not only get to work in a tactile manner, in an “Eastern” way of designing where no drawings or sketches are allowed, but they have to find the best solution for a “design kit” for a given craft, and then themselves make letterforms.

Ideally, when possible, students are also included in Typecraft workshops with craftspeople in their village/town or city. Where not possible, like the recent workshops I conducted at the California College of Art and School of Visual Arts—they had to study these communities, their geographical, political and social conditions and what one can learn about their material culture, and the crafts they make. Additionally, if there are any connections to their religion, belief systems, their geography, etc., to the way the craft looks. This makes design education not only more empathetic but much more specific where the “client” is a real person with real needs and challenges, rather than an anonymous customer.

Like I did with students from Germany, where they spent three weeks in India visiting various maker communities across the country, I am hoping to do similar exchanges with students form the U.S. and other countries to not only build in cultural connections, but deeper understanding of how the majority of the world lives. 

What have been your biggest surprise(s) going into and pursuing this project?
When I first started this project in 2011, and in fact even during my SVA days in 2004 and 2005 when I dabbled with lettering and Indian visual culture, I always saw this as a visual and aesthetic project. But what I realized over time is that this needed to be something far beyond mere craft and design coming together; it needed to address greater sociopolitical challenges such as patriarchy, discrimination of religious minorities, of people based on their caste or gender and also of tribal people who have been exploited by various corporations in collusion with various governments, both past and present.

While this is a tall ask for a small organization to try to solve, there are a few things we can do, such as using the power of choice to select the group we work with. To work with people not only who might need livelihood and exposure to new markets but also those who are facing discrimination of some kind. We also design posters and graphics using the typefaces to highlight some of these very issues. 

I didn’t expect this project to be valued far more outside India than within the country. I expected more recognition from major design and craft awards in India and in the West, and also inclusion in design magazines—which to be honest has been a struggle! My guess is that since this project straddles craft, design and art—and hence is an outlier in all three of these areas of visual arts practice—that’s the reason it doesn’t easily find “takers.”

What can we gain by embracing craft?
The connection to tactility is key for human learning, experiencing, sharing and memory. Graphic design—now a mostly digital and non-tactile field—has lost its connection to hand-making (craft) and materiality, unlike other fields of design such as fashion, textiles, product and interiors. Those aspects were critical to graphic and type design as metal-smithing (for hot type); hand-carving of wood (for wood type); knowledge of paper and inks as well as cloth and thread (textiles) for book-binding. … These aspects as we are aware of them today have been severed from this field and belong to the domain of the book printer. In this sense the idea of the glyph relates to the word glyphein, or “to carve”—like one does with tattoos and other crafts as well. 

Crafts have an important lesson for us especially in this age of “polycrisis,” where issues such as global climate change have been brought on by the onslaught of consumerism, with its systemic mass-production, mass-consumption and mass-waste cycles—something that graphic design, in collusion with industry, is guilty of propagating.

Craft in the “traditional sense” in places such as South Asia has been about working with natural materials, in a community (usually employing a system of barter, where resources are shared within the community), and work happens slowly—devoid of any trends—leading to less waste and excess. While all this might sound utopian, it’s not without social issues of caste discrimination that would have existed even in more idyllic village settings, nevertheless the detrimental impact on nature would have been far less than the current mess we have.

For Baiga tattoos, we are experimenting with the idea of typing the name of the tattoo to yield the actual icon; Bakkhar is … a tattoo motif signifying tiling the land (for agriculture).

The font itself is a tool that can be used to further explore and celebrate their designs. It can also teach people about the communal practices that have been banned by the British and still continue to not be allowed on Bewar or the practice of shifting agriculture that was key to this tribe, and even features in their songs and folklore.

And lastly, we want to move beyond the mere aesthetics of the artform—even though they are important signifiers, they don’t give us the complete picture of the colonization and continued oppression (what I call “internal colonization” by powerful corporations that work in collusion with corrupt governments) to control these resource-rich lands. For an artwork coming up in a show in Australia, I am experimenting with the idea that typing certain words in this font will change them to other words that are subversive and make you think about this community deeper than their aesthetics, which is key! So typing “tribal” could give you a word like “laborer,” or “land” gives “coal mine,” etc. 

I feel this project is fairly misunderstood as it’s not mainstream design, not mainstream art nor is it mainstream craft!

AI and type design are inevitable, but how can you use AI in a way that enriches the medium rather than making it less materialistic and less tactile than it is? How can you bring in imperfection and mistakes in a world that seeks efficiency, accuracy and perfection? What does imperfection mean in such a world—and this imperfection is only possible with the hand, not the computer.

For Keva Epale, an independent Parisian art director and illustrator, Mild is her first lettering experiment. Inspired by a client’s brand exploration, the idea for Mild wouldn’t let her go even after her client picked a different concept. Epale continued sketching and experimenting with the forms.

What Mild lacks as an exhaustive font family (it is available only in caps, for example), it makes up for in playfulness and personality. The family includes rounded and angular versions, with a few basic alternate styles.

Led by Pentagram Partner Abbott Miller, the Pentagram team developed a new brand identity for the Aquarium that builds on its legacy while looking ahead. “This evolution of our branding embodies all the wonder and delight that connects people to the Aquarium and the living ocean,” said the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Executive Director, Julie Packard, on Pentagram’s website. “In vibrant ways, it honors our past and aligns with all the possibilities ahead of us.”

Miller told me the Monterey Bay Aquarium turned to his crew to create cohesion amidst disparate touchpoints. “The aquarium’s brief was to update the visual identity to unify all aspects of the brand,” he said. “This included print and digital graphics, environmental graphics and exhibitions, merchandise, and advertising and social media.”

Miller and Co. met this brief by developing a strong central icon, establishing an earthy color palette, and landing on approachable yet sophisticated typography. “I think the typographic and color systems have created a really solid foundation for the whole institution,” Miller shared. But in many ways, the kelp icon is the star of the show.

“The kelp symbol was there at the founding of the Aquarium and is a beloved icon of Monterey,” explained Miller. “There are many fans of the Aquarium who have the kelp symbol tattooed on their bodies!” One of the Aquarium’s early exhibition designers, Richard Graef, created the original kelp logo, which has been in use since the Aquarium opened its doors. “The Aquarium is deeply committed to the icon; our careful redrawing of the form optimized its use and created some interesting ‘variants’ of the symbol for merchandise. We also created a beautiful translation of the symbol into a continuous pattern.”

This kelp redrawing simplifies the fronds to streamline the mark slightly and make it more scalable. The icon can be used in new and unexpected ways throughout the system, like as frames and filters for images or in variations as a halftone or multi-line drawing. The repeating pattern Miller alluded to was developed in collaboration with the illustrator Yehrin Tong and is for use on apparel, merchandise, and elsewhere.

The organic quality of the symbol thoughtfully extends into the brand typography. Pentagram collaborated with type designer Peter Bil’ak and Nikola Djurek of Typotheque to design the new wordmark. They did so by adapting their serif Nocturno, reworking it to have shorter descenders and stronger connections to the kelp symbol, as well as fluid curves that harken to the movement of the ocean. The brand typefaces include the original Nocturno and the sharp sans serifs Peak and Peak Rounded (by Xavier Erni of Neo Neo / Extraset).

“Since the project’s core was the kelp symbol, we thought the typography should take its cues from the interplay of smooth and sharp forms,” elaborated Miller. “Our goal was for the type to echo the kelp to achieve a unity between the two elements.”

Regarding the system’s color palette, Pentagram was keen to go beyond blue. “At their founding, the Aquarium used a kind of two-tone sand color, and over time, it migrated to the classic ocean blue,” said Miller. “We looked at directions in the sand realm and then in the rich yellow greens and the blue of the previous identity. While we settled on the blue, our experience with the other colors proved that a broader palette derived from the spectrum of the ocean would be really strong.” These new core colors consist of three shades of ocean blue and green, a range of neutrals, plus black and white.

When asked what the most surprising aspect of the project was for Miller, he offered an unexpected answer. “When I got a ‘behind the scenes’ tour, I was able to feed the giant red octopus, and she stretched out her tentacles, attached her suckers to my forearm, and started to pull me towards her,” he said. I’m no deep-sea expert, but I’d wager the octopus was simply showing Miller some love for a job well done!

Whether we realize it or not, everyone has a connection to cursive. For me, at least, my cursive story began in fourth grade. It was part of the curriculum, and we spent one class every day learning how to write in cursive.

At the time, I didn’t understand it; it was a class I dreaded because, like math, I didn’t understand the point. Now, as an adult who’s made a hobby out of calligraphy, my workbook from elementary school with dashed, traceable letters is a visual ingrained in my memory. But at ten years old, with computers becoming increasingly portable, my classmates and I didn’t understand the concept. We rolled our eyes as we moved through learning the alphabet, wondering why we couldn’t just go to our computer class.

By the time we got to the letter “x,” all motivation had been lost. Our teachers continuously told us about the importance of cursive–that it was not only a more mature way to write, but it would enable us to read historical papers and letters from our ancestors one day. As a class, we collectively groaned.

Eventually, the classroom began to phase cursive out, likely seen as a waste of resources and funds. With the rise in technology, educators found, with their limited time, that teaching students technology outweighed the importance of the curly-cue letters. In 2010, the Common Core standards, also known as established benchmarks for reading and math, became more widely adopted, and they no longer required states to teach cursive, leaving the decision up to individual states and districts. With this shift in the standards, 45 states chose not to teach cursive, leaving hundreds of thousands of students without the skillset.

“Writing in cursive or in script is part of history, and it feels like a weird thing to just say, ‘this isn’t important anymore,” shares Adam Vicarel, Principal and Creative Director of Vicarel Studios. “It’s like saying, yeah, the War of 1812 happened a long time ago, so let’s just stop talking about it.”

He continues, “Everything is informed by the past, and the best way to take action is to be informed by what happened before you. To stop practicing cursive or learning cursive is strange.” Vicarel feels it’s an extreme oversight to think that no one cares about it. 

(© Vicarel Studios)

Kelsey Voltz-Poremba, assistant professor of occupational therapy at the University of Pittsburgh, told BBC that children can learn and replicate cursive more easily. “When handwriting is more autonomous for a child, it allows them to put more cognitive energy towards more advanced visual-motor skills and have better learning outcomes,” she told the publication. Cursive has proven to have a range of benefits for students. Even beyond advancing their visual-motor skills, learning cursive has been demonstrated to help children with dyslexia. According to PBS, “For those with dyslexia, cursive handwriting can be an integral part of becoming a more successful student.” 

As a sign of progress, in 2014, a bill in Tennessee required that cursive be a mandatory subject in grades two through four. Then, in 2019, Alabama, Louisiana, Arkansas, Texas, Virginia, Florida, and North Carolina followed suit and required similar measures. 

Most recently, California and New Hampshire have reintroduced the mandatory teaching of cursive. According to the LA Times, “Even before the new law took effect on January 1 [2024], cursive was a California learning goal in grades three and four, but the state and school districts had not enforced its teaching or tested to see whether students had mastered it. The law states that handwriting instruction for grades one to six includes writing ‘in cursive or joined italics in the appropriate grade levels.”

And while some states are introducing mandatory cursive lessons, they are not required to be enforced or funded. Without a Common Core standardization, schools do not have much motivation to enforce the education. Hopefully, other states will follow suit, with California and New Hampshire recently adopting the curriculum. 

For now, though, we’re existing in an interesting space where current designers are creating for people who weren’t taught cursive in school. We’re seeing more and more heritage brands redesign their well-known cursive logos to simple, sans-serif typography. From Eddie Bauer and Johnson and Johnson, the logos are getting less and less curly. But as brands leave behind the cursive designs, they leave behind the human touch. 

Phil Garnham, Executive Creative Director at Monotype UK, states, “There’s a tactility to cursive, the kind of warmth that is reminiscent of nostalgia. I think there’s a human crafty element to it that is important for brands.” Essentially, cursive has the innate ability to allow brands to showcase a more humanistic side. 

(© Vicarel Studios work for The Wild)

I’m also completely depressed by the kind of sans-serif of digital modernism of the state we’re in. …We’re missing emotive design. That’s why cursive is so appealing to me at the moment. There’s a great opportunity. [Cursive] is almost like a gateway to uncovering new ideas and new potential.”

Phil Garnaham, Monotype

While the humanistic touch in design is vital for consumers (and people) to feel a visceral connection, Vicarel has been asked by brand clients to refrain from using cursive because their target demographic can’t read it. “We’ve done projects where the agency gave us all the creative direction and then specifically said, ‘Don’t explore scripts because GenZ is our target audience, and they can’t read script,'” he notes.

“It’s not only sad to acknowledge that that generation already struggles to read it,” says Vicarel. “High-end fashion brands are moving away from using ornate serifs, and now they’re all sans-serif. It just takes so much character and like life and personality out of whatever it is that you’re creating.”

Garnham agrees, “I’m also completely depressed by the kind of sans-serif of digital modernism of the state we’re in. We’re not seeing any bravery in brand design at all right now. There’s an obsession that you can just take any sans-serif and apply some quirky character or some subtle shift on it and put the same color palettes in. We’re missing emotive design. That’s why cursive is so appealing to me at the moment. There’s a great opportunity. [Cursive] is almost like a gateway to uncovering new ideas and new potential.”

But while some designers and brands are moving away from cursive in fear that future consumers or brand loyalists won’t be able to read their designs, others are leaning in. Vicarel is one of those designers, creating a typeface inspired by a third-grader’s handwriting practice book that he purchased on a visit to Portugal. “There are enough letterforms in the book to create a typeface. We are able to digitize all of the letters very easily, so, quite literally, the process would be scanning it in. It’s possible that we can take the primary structure of all the letters and almost leave them as is,” he notes. “We will probably make certain adjustments on some letters, but in particular, the accent stroke because it will have to be the same on every single character to be sure that they meet together nicely.”

Now that California and New Hampshire require students to be taught cursive, the design pendulum will hopefully swing back in the opposite direction. If younger generations can confidently read script typefaces, designers and brands won’t be afraid to use them. 

The design world is cyclical, but never before have we seen a cycle so obvious in typography. It’s fascinating to break down the importance of typographical education, especially if it’s in the form of teaching children how to write. The cognitive benefits are there, but so are the humanistic, emotive design benefits. Technology is essential, yes, but there’s nothing quite as dynamic as the human touch. 

What struck us was Splinter’s graphic quality. The font plays with the limits of legibility, presenting itself as a sort of futuristic dot matrix with opportunities for patterns and graphic flourishes.

Splinter’s visual presentation aside, we love the ride-along on Goyal’s process, which she outlines in the Splinter Diaries. The series is for Universal Thirst Gazette, an online resource for designers, researchers, and students to encourage discussion and interest in Indic type (and type generally).

In her first installment for the Splinter Diaries, Goyal lays out her initial exploration of a grid-based system and how to render the shirorekha (or the horizontal line above the characters), diacritics such as matras (vowel modifiers), conjuncts (adjoining consonants), and symbols such as the kana (क, ठ, with a central vertical stem).

Top: found lettering, the title of a book by Hindi author Devendranath Sharma. The creator of the cover design is unknown;
Bottom: the digitized version.

For now, Splinter supports the basic Devanagari character set and some support for Hindi conjuncts and Marathi and Nepali glyphs. The typeface will expand as it develops to cover the Latin upper case, followed by other Indic scripts. Find Splinter on FutureFonts.

Namrata Goyal pursued her love of type at TypeAtCooper in New York and TypeMedia at the Royal Academy of Art in the Hague, Netherlands (her thesis explored newspaper type and multi-script typography). At Universal Thirst, Namrata primarily focuses on North Indian and Latin scripts. She also publishes independent projects on FutureFonts.

The Holdovers – Gelica

The Holdovers, directed by Alexander Payne and starring national treasure Paul Giamatti, is a dramedy set in 1970 about a group of kids at a prep school with no families to go home to over their holiday break. As a result, they stay behind with their curmudgeonly teacher (Giamatti), and heartwarming antics ensue. The film’s time period, the retro prep-school setting, and overarching feel-good warmth all ladder up to the Gelica typeface. Designed by Dave Rowland and published by Eclectotype Fonts, Gelica is an approachable, soft serif imbued with a classic and cheerful affect.

Anatomy of a Fall – Vienna Woodtype

In sharp contrast to The Holdovers’ feel-good, family-friendly vibe is the French film Anatomy of a Fall. Directed by Justine Triet, the film depicts the story of a woman attempting to prove her innocence in the death of her husband, who has fallen from their home’s attic window. The tone of the film is intensely suspenseful and gripping, which Vienna Woodtype (designed by Christoph Zeugswetter and published by xtoph) taps into with its ghostly wood-block printed effect. Zeugswetter used real prints made from a linocut to create the font, with each glyph handprinted, scanned, and then converted into a computer font.

Barbie – Belinda New

A film that has taken each facet of the design industry and every corner of our visual culture by storm, Barbie from Greta Gerwig and starring Margot Robbie, is high femme with a powerful backbone. Belinda New by Melvastype strikes this same chord as a classic brush script that has strength and elegance in equal measure.

American Fiction – Typewriter 1950 Tech Mono

American Fiction, directed by Cord Jefferson and starring Jeffrey Wright, portrays the ridiculousness of our society’s obsession with a stereotypical concept of “Black” culture and entertainment through the story of a Black novelist at the end of his rope in the publishing industry. After penning a satire of a “Black” book that publishers and the public mistake as earnest literature, he finds himself at the center of a web of lies and social critique. Typewriter 1950 Tech Mono (designed by Manuel Viergutz and published by Typo Graphic Design) takes the style of a traditional Courier typewriter font that’s long been a visual shorthand for books and book publishing. Then, it subverts tradition with loose treatment of each letterform, harkening to the imperfections of screen-printing and protest signs.

Killers of the Flower Moon – Mesquite

Martin Scorsese’s Western crime drama Killers of the Flower Moon recounts the true story of the systematic serial murders of the Osage Indian tribe in Oklahoma in the 1920s once oil was discovered on their land. Starring (who but!) Leonardo DiCaprio, along with breakout star Lily Gladstone, the period piece harnesses a traditional Western visual language with a sinister, bloody twist. Mesquite is a Tuscan-style typeface from designer Joy Redick that elicits this same tone. It has a clear Western typographic foundation, dramatized by exaggerated sharp serifs.

Past Lives – Voyage

The romantic drama Past Lives by Celine Song, starring Greta Lee with Teo Yoo, encompasses a decades-long love story between two childhood friends from South Korea. The elegance and inherent romance of the typeface Voyage from VJ Type exudes the same tone. There’s a sentimentality to this display typeface, with delicate hairlines that loop backward and forward gracefully, connecting letters romantically like the characters in the film.

Maestro – Magnet

Bradley Cooper directs and stars in Maestro, which chronicles the lifelong relationship between Leonard Bernstein and Felicia Montealegre Cohn Bernstein (Carey Mulligan). The ambitious, sweeping drama explores the complicated beauty and pain of a long-term relationship, which is not unlike the story behind the typeface Magnet by Inga Plönnigs for Frere-Jones.

Oppenheimer – Territory

A period thriller from Christopher Nolan starring Cillian Murphy, Oppenheimer tells the true story of the invention of the atomic bomb during World War II. Territory by Reygraphic is a frenetic, experimental typeface based on graphic elements inspired by sound waves. The distorted energy and illegibility of Territory speaks to the disorientation of an explosion and the impact of the atomic bomb on society, and the lives of the people who brought it into being.

Territory also made it into our 2024 PRINT Typography Report.

Poor Things – Onyxia

Poor Things, starring Emma Stone, comes from the other-worldly mind of director Yorgos Lanthimos. The magical-realistic drama, with a dark comedic twist, spins the outrageous tale of the endlessly captivating Bella Baxter, who has been brought back to life by a mad scientist after her suicide. Much of the film is visually grotesque and unsettling, while simultaneously gorgeous and ornate. The highly contrasted display font Onyxia from Pixel Surplus portrays this same juxtaposition, with funky, overlapping characters and bendy letterforms that are at once wonky and elegant.

The Zone of Interest – Lombok Typeface

A period drama from director Jonathan Glazer, The Zone of Interest tells the story of Rudolf Hess, a Nazi officer and Auschwitz commandant, and his family, who build an idealized life beside the camp. Glazer uses absence as a tool throughout the film, never revealing the imagery of the camp. Lombok from Alexandre Pietra similarly harnesses the power of absence and negative space by alluding to strategically removed aspects of letters.

His latest venture is a new website, which Kitching discusses here.

Are you surprised and/or elated by the apparent increase in popularity among designers and printers for what I consider a major revival in letterpress printing?
No, I am not surprised that more people are getting involved with the handcraft traditions. People need a break from the screen.

At the Royal College of Art, where I once taught typography, one of the first things I used to say to my students was, “I am not interested in letterpress printing. I am only interested in what one can make new with this old technology.” This philosophy continues to inform my work today, notably the importance of innovating within the constraints of established technologies.

While some may view letterpress as a relic of the past, I see it as a rich ground for experimentation and creativity. My approach diverges from traditional methods, using woodblock poster type, and occasionally forgoing the printing press altogether, opting instead to exert hand pressure to transfer inked surfaces onto paper. This tactile, hands-on process allows for a level of control and spontaneity that is unmatched by digital methods.

With the Hamilton Wood Type & Printing Museum’s Wayzgoose event, a large number of wannabe printers are emerging. You are one of the pioneers. How would you distinguish your work from the rest?
While I greatly value the Hamilton Wood Type museum and its Wayzgoose event for fostering interest in printing, I distinguish myself as an artist operating within a working print studio. Unlike a museum, my focus is on actively creating printed images using wood-block type. This distinction emphasizes my role as a practitioner, blending traditional craftsmanship with artistic expression to produce unique and original works.

How does your new website suit your needs better than before?
The previous website was outdated, serving as little more than a static profile page. With the new site, I’ve created a dynamic online platform that showcases my recent work and includes a functional shop. This allows me to share my extensive archive of prints with the public. Overall, the new website better reflects my current work, engages visitors more effectively, and improves accessibility to my art.

When you began printing, I’m certain you had no conception that your handcraft would be displayed to so many people on the web. How do you feel about this “revolution”?
The connection of traditional craftsmanship with modern technology has revolutionized how I share my work. Platforms like Instagram enable me to showcase the intricacies of letterpress printing, sparking interest from new audiences. This intersection is fascinating, making the ancient craft more accessible and engaging to a wider community.

You continue to produce new work at a prodigious pace. Is there more to do? Do you ever rest?
There is always more to do. I will never retire from printing. Working on new prints and thinking up new ideas keeps me engaged and active.

Are there any new inventions in this vintage art and craft?
There may be new inventions yet to be discovered!

Designed by Alexander Wright and developed by Rodrigo Fuenzalida, Zanco is described by its creators as “a celebration of delicious contrasts.” Extreme verticals meet soft curves and funky weight distribution—serving up an impactful display font that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

There’s also the climate-optimism jumping from the type samples. We love that the foundry team created an irreverent campaign for an imagined climate conference, asking us to “embrace action with joyful determination.” Zanco gets the point across without condescension.

The letterforms range from lanky to heavy; the bottom halves resemble glam platform shoes. Fans of Art Nouveau will appreciate the skinny ascenders and the varied curvature of the counters and symbols. Zanco works on a range of projects, from logomarks to packaging to motion. We love it for billboards and poster designs, where you want the type to speak as loudly as the message.

In-House Int’l studio foundry, part of the Austin, Texas-and-Barcelona, Spain-based creative agency In-House International, has graced our Type Tuesday column before with Brinca.

Learn more about Zanco, the Foundry, and In-House International.

Creative & production: Michu Benaim Steiner, Alexander Wright, Luis Carlos Redondo.

Kyiv Type Foundry is the collaboration between three Ukranians, Yevgeniy Anfalov and Oles Gergun, currently in Germany, and Vadym Axeev in Bar, Ukraine. The trio formed a type foundry that produces Cyrillic (and Latin) fonts based on Soviet-era Ukrainian types, inspired, among other things, by the beautiful mosaics destroyed by what they call “decommunization.” With an uncritical view of the Soviet typographic heritage that was either ignored or labeled as “Muscovite,” they discovered many treasures made by Ukrainians between 1917 and 1991. They planned a font library, finished the typefaces for the launch, programmed the website—and in 2020 Kyiv Type Foundry was born.

I asked Anfalov to share some of his inspirations as his homeland marks the two-year anniversary of the bloody war with Putin’s Russia. We begin by excerpting the following preface to the specimen sheet of KTF’s recent Kyiv Metro, which is designed to help raise money for aid to Ukraine’s design students.

“Echoing WWII events, in 2022 Kyiv Metro became the bomb shelter for thousands of its inhabitants. This sad fact is another big milestone in its rich history, which continues to be written. Built six decades ago, it carries 1.32 million passengers a day (2016) and is one of the most beautiful man-made creations in Ukraine. As part of station architecture, the letters of the Kyiv Metro tell us a lot about its history. It’s a book. You can read it in many directions. Exiting each station, you’ll notice different lettering [approaches]. “Look at them, analyze and make fonts of them,” we told to our students in our summer 2023 workshop called “Kyiv Metro Fonts.” So they did it within a week, and we took [the results] and carefully finished six most representative of them.

“The result is a family release called KTF Metro, aiming to preserve the typographic memory of the city. Additionally, we interviewed Oleg Totsky, a metro historian and specialist. His answers [in the downloadable specimen] open up a context in which Kyiv Metro letters emerged and supplement the showcased typefaces respectively. KTF Metro is free of charge for Ukrainians. As Ukraine is still in the state of emergency, we’d like to ask you for a donation. Use our PayPal, and we’ll distribute the money among those in need and report by the end of 2024.”

How difficult was it for you to produce such a venture during this horrible war?
Those of us who are in Ukraine, they are strong and they keep working, showing the strong will and love for life. Part of us is in peaceful Europe, so we have a big privilege to produce work under normal conditions and support people in Ukraine with our outcome, like with our recent free font project, or our online workshops where we teach Cyrillic type design. By the way, we’re actively searching for sponsors to support the above-mentioned educational venues so students have to pay less for the course. Please write to us.

What prompted the creation of this face?
Someone had to do it! Some metro stations are being renamed, and with it, original signs disappear. Our new [mission] became to write the memory of the city, and we apply it to our practice. Like architecture, letters bear the history of the city and its people. We’re saving the typographical landscape of the city by doing revivals and writing about them. Kyiv Metro stations are like chapters in a book. You can read them in different directions. In the case of Kyiv Metro Fonts it was nice to create a font collection. Together these five fonts and the supplementing research text give a bigger picture of the context [in which they were] created. The sum is greater than its parts. Starting with neoclassicist brass letters, supposedly coming from Moscow (1960s), through techno-optimist Eurostyle-like letterings from the 1970s, up until the postmodern eclecticism of 1980–1990s.

W

It must be a challenge to focus on fonts when everything around you is in chaos.
In times of war, time goes fast and we acutely feel the change. My crewmate is in Ukraine and I’ll never forget how he said to me last winter: “Hey, we can still work as I have a bit of battery power.” They had electricity shortages. It’s sad to say, but for many people, life has “normalized” in Ukraine, as people would go crazy if they wouldn’t try coping. I’m saying it from peaceful Germany, where I have lived for 20 years now, but I have an opportunity to compare. I’m tightly bound to both countries. We traveled to the Carpathian mountains last year, and I saw graveyards with flags, marking those who fell on the frontline. The presence of death is closer to you there. So yes, the current war only intensified my wish to live and to finish my ideas and typefaces before I die. Also, I want to use this as an opportunity to talk about my homeland, which is bleeding.

Font production:
Vadym Aksieiev
Yevgen Anfalov
Nazariy Kondratiuk
Dasha Lennhren
Matvii Masliukov

Specimen help:
Ostap Yashchuk

Special thanks:
Jan Horčík for train illustrations
Nazariy Kondratiuk for assistance
Oleg Totsky for the interview

Code and integration:
Arsen Batiuchok
Oles Gergun

Site Builder:
Control

Students:
Olesia Bachyns’ka
Roman Baranovsky
Galya Dautova
Andriy Holubokiy
Nazariy Kondratiuk
Dasha Lennhren
Mykyta Maltsev
Matvii Masliukov
Oleksandr Piddubniy
Yevhen Spizhovyi
Workshop mentors:
Yevgen Anfalov
Oles Gergun

The brainchild of Mario Carpe, a Spain-based graphic designer, You Are My Type, explores the visual nature of words. When Carpe stepped away from his usual illustrative work to experiment with typography, he immediately found an incredible build-up of creative energy, enough to produce the body found in the three volumes, with presumably more to come. Using a relatively straightforward process, Carpe started with rough sketches, which he pulled into Illustrator to manipulate and test layouts. The designer used many familiar phrases and quotes but wanted to go beyond the words’ known meaning to embody the words and phrases expressively.

Carpe’s compositions communicate through his experimentation with type, but each volume has a thematic element. You Are My Type Vol. 1 is inspired by our social and working lives. The second volume explores diverse themes, from love and passion to self and societal commentary. In volume 3, Carpe delves into humorous introspection and personal growth, with a little social critique on the side.

Each work within the series presents letters as more than symbols; they are vessels of emotion, meaning, and thought.

Mario Carpe

Individually, the compositions express meaning, emote, inspire, notice, and protest. When viewed as a whole, the compilation is visual candy, a dazzling visual array. You Are My Type is a studio-ready flip book of color and typographic inspiration.

Images © Mario Carpe.

Now that you’ve seen the video, read Kühne’s pitch for his annual type and printing workshop. He writes: “Stop believing in the illusion of bad typography! For 2024, Typographic Printing Program breaks the typographic hallucination, daydreaming and misinformation and brings you the full analog phantasma and disillusion.” I happen to devour “analog phantasmas,” so this is the program I’d attend if I could.

The goal of the two-week summer intensive in Switzerland is to bridge the gap between analog design and production tools and professional contemporary typographic posters. Participants will go through a number of analog tasks to experience the qualities of simple type-only layouts. All the experiments and exercises will be realized with traditional letterpress printing presses and physical type. “Through this very slow but accurate analog process, the participants will learn to put emphasis on concept and micro typography,” he promises.

After a rigorous design process, the participants will each produce a typographic letterpress poster printed with a variety of production tools, such as wood and metal type, chipboard, lasercut mdf, linoleum, hand-cast Ludlow type slugs, and many more. Kühne’s goal is that the analog work will easily translate to the contemporary design practice for the benefit of the participants’ future careers.

He currently offers two slots: June 23–July 6, and July 28–Aug. 10. Learn more here and here.

And here are some previous posters:

The Greatest Show on Earth?

When a brand’s value is tethered to its ability to reflect an entire culture in a highly digital landscape fragmented by personalized algorithms, where does that leave typography? 

All over the place. 

Culture writer Kian Bakhtiari mapped out a few societal pinpoints in 2023 for Forbes, citing, “the abundance of information creates a poverty of attention. Finite time makes attention the most valuable commodity in the world. Some of the world’s biggest companies like Google, Meta, and TikTok trade in attention, not products or services.”

In recent years, documentaries like Netflix’s The Social Dilemma echo this, tracing how tech monsters design their platforms to keep us engaged in this loop, selling our attention to advertisers. 

As we hitch our energy to social media, we ignore our addiction to it and other looming dangers like fossil fuels and artificial ignorance. Typographic feats in 2024 promise to soothe our vulnerability to the impacts of our dependencies. But will type prove to be more of a spectacle or antidote? 

While our existence on this planet is mired in fog, the line for the greatest show on earth is queuing up: type in the age of Artificial Intelligence. As Rudy Sanchez reported from last year’s Adobe MAX conference, “If there remained lingering doubts that we’ve entered the age of A.I.-assisted design, Adobe’s MAX conference erased them.”

Designers will turn to type escapism. Typography will be the balm in an increasingly irritated society.

Letterforms will be more acrobatic—performing stunts, magic acts, and high-flying feats. Step right up; we are ruinously unprepared for the circus of type.

BOLD STRIDES, BOLDER TYPE: Activism & Social Justice

Connecting to a new generation means brands have to engage in more meaningful ways than simply offering a product or service. More conceptual forms of relevancy that consider community, social issues, belonging, and hyper-relevant content are emerging. Type is one supple mechanism to this end. Another? Design criticism.

The design arm of the creative agency Mother brought activism and social justice together in one inflatable reality called The Bliss Sofa. It’s a floating Swiss-Army-inspired sofa that converts into a life raft, complete with a paddle and emergency lights. With cushions upholstered in the same orange fabric used to make life jackets and an optional ottoman that doubles as storage, the piece is a cheeky critique of climate change oblivion and will come in handy when the glaciers melt. Mother aims to sell the piece and donate some of the proceeds to the United Nations Refugee Agency.

The Bliss Sofa exploration is in direct conversation with Mother Design’s rebrand of Brooklyn Org, which strives to bring a new voice to modern philanthropy. 

According to Design Director Kozue Yamada, “As we explored, we looked at a lot of different condensed typefaces for the wordmark. We were inspired by aspects of PP Formula but ultimately wanted to create something much more condensed, adding rectangular counters and ink traps to reflect the nuances of Brooklyn blocks and streets.”

With the inspiration supplied by Brooklyn’s dense city blocks, the team selected Community Gothic as the voice of the Organization. For Yamada, “We wanted to use a typeface which was born in America, specifically in Brooklyn. Community Gothic was made by Frere-Jones Type, who are based in Brooklyn – a few blocks away from us!”

Yamada also studied other typefaces in the social activism space for inspiration, like Vocal Type’s Martin, citing, “Brooklyn Org has a bold vision and big goals, so the wordmark needed to reflect that. We wanted the logo to feel big, substantial – like a place where people can come together. We wanted to distance them from the tropes of philanthropy branding and create something vibrant and new.”

Typefaces tied to social activism are emphatic, human, and designed for rally cries and anthems. It’s a tradition established by Angel Bracho’s Victory of 1945, printed in celebration of the Allied victory in World War II, and Emory Douglas’ graphic work for the Black Panthers as seen in his Free Huey posters. Today, this legacy of social activism continues in the culture and education sectors, with typography choices even more reflective of local culture.

Examples: Community Gothic by Frere-Jones Type (left), Alt Riviera by ALT.TF (top right); T1 Korium by T1 Foundry (middle); Resist Mono by Groteskly Yours Studio (bottom right).

A SPIN AROUND THE OLD BLOCK:
Neo Displays

Neo Displays are proliferating, particularly when modernizing long-standing institutions with precious heritages.

The image to the left was created in Midjourney with the prompt, “A spin around the old block Neo displays.”

Marked by a new spin on typography that pays homage to the neon lights and signs of yesterday’s entertainment districts, Neo Displays perform an intense balancing act between legacy and future impact.

Led by Senior Creative Director Jane Boynton and Associate Creative Director Melissa Chavez, the recently renewed identity for New York Botanical Gardens (NYBG) by Wolff Olins is evidence of this consideration, with a custom wordmark that is a confident, bold, and impactful embodiment of the organization’s call to action. “The idea behind the wordmark and typeface came from our desire to pay homage typographically to the city of New York, given NYBG has firmly been rooted in the Bronx for 132 years,” they explain, continuing, “New York City is like a candy store for typography, so it’s hard to know where to begin. The International Typeface Corporation (ITC) came up often in our research phase, which is no surprise given its prominence in the city. As did typographers and designers like Tony DiSpigna, Ed Benguiat, Tom Carnase, and, of course, Herb Lubalin. We knew that we wanted the logo to celebrate our sense of place in New York City and the Bronx, as well as crafting forms that alluded to nature. We also decided on a bolder weight for the forms that speak both to the confidence and directness of being a New Yorker and as a reference to nature because when nature is at its best and thriving, it is lush, rich, and full of form.”

The team drew upon NYBG’s existing equity of advocacy, which is as rich as the gardens whose pathways provided the direct forms of the supporting graphic language. The new identity amplifies the institution’s heritage with a new unifying confidence. Boynton, Chavez, and their team were deeply engaged with the gardens, noting, “This immersion was essential to the work, as it underscored that NYBG is not just a beautiful garden, but also a scientific laboratory, a policy-influencing research institution, and a community anchor. A new look for NYBG couldn’t just be beautiful or organic. It also had to convey the weight of the institution, the rigor and precision of its scientific pursuits, and the accessibility of its various community outreach programs. This confluence of ideas is most clearly reflected in the forms of the wordmark.”

To complete the wholly unmistakable logo, set in black, the team built a colorful world around it, expounding, “Supporting typefaces GT Super and Martian Mono provide both an elegance and scientific precision that allow for flexibility in communications. The color palette itself is inspired by the breadth of plants, trees, fungi, algae and even the Bronx River that runs through the Garden, and the map graphics reinterpret an essential piece of the Garden in a new and unexpected way, emphasizing the entirety of its 250 acres.” Ultimately, this invites the magnitude of the NYBG’s many purposes under one inviting banner that is warm, direct, and with a hint of attitude.  

Similarly, Pentagram created a new identity for the Shakespeare Theater Company that expresses the ongoing relevance of Shakespeare while enhancing the contemporary spin that the theater brings to the Bard’s timeless stories. For instance, it frequently presents Shakespeare’s classic texts with a fresh angle, highlighting topics such as diversity, inclusivity, and tolerance while reflecting on universal themes including love, power, greed, life, and death.

Pentagram partner Marina Willer proposed a creative expression centered around the “interplay between a broad range of dimensions,” including classic and contemporary, artist and audience, stage and digital, entertaining and learning, intimate and collective, real and unreal – as a way of “reimagining stories from the past for audiences of the future.”

Examples: Cairo’s Film My Design by Maram Al Refaei (left); VT Fly by Jose Manuel Vega (top right); Team GB Paris 2024 by Thisaway and typographer Lewis McGuffie (middle and bottom right).

ARTIFICIAL HYPE:
A.I. Generated Type

Humankind is prompting Large Language Models (LLMs) and A.I. image generators to produce texts, images, and videos. Designers are also harnessing A.I., creating a space for the technology in established processes.

The image to the left was created in Adobe Firefly.

A.I. gives designers the ability to output letterforms quickly, while generating new imagined futures. Yet the natural eye does not easily distinguish between A.I.-generated media and truth. Enter the slippery slope, as generated images have immense value when they are so close to reality.

Challenging this interplay of type, form, and culture is Vernacular, an independent publisher run by Italian-Colombian graphic and type designer Andrea A. Trabucco Campos and Uruguayan graphic designer Martin Azambuja. In the sold-out first run of Artificial Typography, the established designers explore A-Z letterforms imagined by A.I. through the lens of 52 artists throughout art history.

In an interview by Steven Heller, the pair states, “There was a major breakthrough in 2015 with automated image captioning. As the name suggests, this study allows describing the content of an image in words. After that, it was natural to play the other way around and see what image would appear depending on the word selection.”

Prompting A.I. with ‘Letter R in The Equatorial Jungle, a painting by Henri Rousseau,’ emits a dazzling array of jungle fantasy Rs, with all the post-impressionist trimmings of the artist’s hand. Or ‘Letter B by Louise Bourgeois, crochet’ produces a row of bulbous, handknit Bs.

In the early stages of A.I., designers are primarily exploring text-to-image models, shifting their role slightly from creator to curator. 

&Walsh enlisted the A.I. platform DALL-E in their recent rebrand of Isodope, a nonprofit striving to teach the benefits of nuclear energy as a clean, sustainable energy source in a climate-crisis world. Since Isodope’s classroom is virtual across Gen Z platforms like TikTok, &Walsh strategically met technology with technology. Using DALL-E enabled the design team to create visual potentials, and the outcomes also led to new possible directions. Ultimately, the collaboration arrived in a new dimension, literally. The bold, forward motion of the wordmark and glitchy glow of the supporting icons paired with a dimensional grid bring an imagined future of galactic learning.

Jessica Walsh told It’s Nice That, “There will always be a place for designers and traditional craft to help shape the A.I. outputs and push it to realms even further than we could have imagined. However, there will be the option of spending less time on tedious tasks and more time on pushing the creative, the concept or the product.”

The big question is, will General Artificial Intelligence (GIA) ever allow machines to understand and contribute to the world without us? A.I. remains largely exploratory for now, but once it begins to create more compelling stories without any prompt, stay vigilant. Designers must stay ahead of automated intelligence and decide how to integrate it with their work.

A sampling of A.I. Tools:

• DALL-E is a text-to-image prompt that generates images.
• Alfont is an A.I. powered type generator.
• Runway has a suite of imaging and motion tools.
• Cavalry brings procedural and node-based design into 2D (previously only possible in expensive 3D software).
• Adobe Firefly offers a host of generative tools for designers across the Creative Cloud (and many more on the horizon).
• Monotype has launched a new A.I. font-pairing tool.

CONTORTIONISM:
Letterform Abstraction

The movement of illegible display typography has been ramping up for a few years. It will continue to do so with new technologies, though its origins predate humans altogether. In 2017 and 2018, archaeologists uncovered evidence in South African caves of Homo naledi, an early human ancestor (which lived about 335,000 to 236,000 years ago), who intentionally buried their dead holding writing tools and made crosshatch engravings  in cave walls that predate earliest known pictorial rock engravings. 

Hieroglyphics (c. 3200 BC–AD 400) advanced this ancient practice into a formal language that combined logographic, syllabic, and alphabetic elements, with more than 100 distinct characters. 

Graffiti dawned in the 1970s with abstract letterforms, combining anonymity with original expression—the latter eventually canceling out the primary as viewers became more familiar with a particular writer’s style. Brands today are gunning for this more proprietary and signature approach to letterforms.

Wolff Olins used abstraction and motion to create a post-pandemic identity for Seoul’s Leeum Museum of Art, with convergence at its heart. The logo, designed to move, reads as an entity rather than a word, partly because it’s reminiscent of the building’s architecture. But look closer, and the forms begin to emerge: L-E-E-U-M. The interaction it inspires across several museum touchpoints is like what’s happening around graffiti in your neighborhood, inviting a closer look.  

Graffiti is hyper-abstraction at its best, giving abandoned and forgotten spaces a sense of ownership. Designers will continue to mine graffiti not only for its wild forms but also for its originality and distinct letterforms. The more our eyes learn to read abstract type, the more we will see this approach realized in logos, campaigns, and branded content.

Past Examples: (Top series) Lance Wyman, symbol for the Metro of Mexico City, as seen in Graphis Annual 69|70, edited by Walter Herdeg, The Graphis Press, Zurich, 1969; (Bottom series) Subscription to Mischief: Graffiti Zines of the 1990s exhibition at Letterform Archive, featuring: Greg Lamarche/Sp.One (@gregbfb), original lettering for the answer key in Skills issue 4, 1993; John Langdon (@6ambigram9), original art for the Philadelphia T-Shirt Museum, 1988; Handstyle master Leonard “Jade” Liu.

Present Examples: (top) Channel 4 (bespoke/in-house type); (bottom two images) Nike Pixo by Fernando Curcio drew inspiration from “pichação” and graffiti, which have long been integral to the urban landscapes of major cities and Nike’s visual world.

SIDESHOW SENSATIONS:
Type Oddities & Flamboyance

3D & Inflatable Lettering

Inflatables in design have become popularized through many moments in history. Felix the Cat appeared as a giant float in the first Macy’s Day Parade in 1924. Andy Warhol’s 1966 Silver Clouds floated in and around his factory.

Seventies conceptual art couldn’t get enough—from Antfarm’s “Clean Air Pod” to Yutaka Murata, Pavillon du groupe Fuji, Osaka (below). And topping the list are the notebook-perfected bubble letters of the 1980s. 

There’s an inherent escapism in inflatable/3D lettering because it transports us to our happy place. It’s youthful, absurd, and playful. It’s soft, comforting, and cartoonish. It’s a style perfected by type design legend Ed Benguait. Responsible for some 600 typefaces, including his namesake Benguiat, he created classics like Bookman and Souvenir, not to mention his heavy-hitting iconic logos for Esquire, The New York Times, and more recently, Stranger Things. And if this last one seems hauntingly familiar, that’s because acclaimed horror author Stephen King used Benguiat’s self-titled font for many of his novel covers. 

We have a lot going on in our world, and fonts with volume and mass meet the moment with a play on absurdity and innocence. Expect this style to pop up in music venue posters, streetwear, and edgier campaigns.

Past Examples: “WNBC-TV News 4 New York Designs for Promotion” mechanical, Ed Benguiat; Benguiat Bravado Black 10, Photo-Lettering’s 1967 Alphabet Yearbook, New York, 1967; “Fat Stuff” in hand-lettered Benguiat Charisma.

Present Examples: Wonka (not pictured); Nordstrom Rack (not pictured); Good Girl (top left);⁠ Nike Campaign (Flip the Game) (top right); Alright Studio: Luaka Bop Website (middle); WIM, HK (bottom left); RTS Cambridge Convention by Kiln (bottom right).

Polished Glitch

This nod to bringing textural noise to letterforms gets a modification with contemporary tools that bring a luster to grungy 90s graphics, as seen in the work of David Carson and the legendary Art Chantry’s work in the 80-90s Seattle music scene. Chantry famously quipped, “Grunge isn’t even a style: it’s a marketing term coined by Sub Pop’s Bruce Pavitt to sell punk music.”

We can trace Chantry’s exuberant work and what Chermayeff & Geismar and Robert Brownjohn did for the 1962 album cover Vibrations to 2023’s Spotify Wrapped graphics and a plethora of other glitchy cues surfacing in font design. 

Examples: Territory by REY (Reinaldo Camejo) (top left and top right); Disrupt by REY (Reinaldo Camejo), guided by Martin Lorenz (middle right); Domino Mono by Sun Young Oh (bottom left); Powerplay poster by Jude Gardner-Rolfe (bottom right).

Type Rebirths

No other font family has endured through the ages quite like Gothic lettering. The neo–Gothic alphabet emerged from the Fraktur typeface, which was prevalent in Germany until the beginning of the twentieth century. Combining stable forms with unexpected hand flourishes, this ancient style continues to find relevance today. It’s remarkable to watch this old-world classic find a multitude of contemporary iterations, giving a personal touch and gravitas to digital fonts. We are seeing new forms of ornamentation rendered not by hand but by machine, making way for newer ultra-gothic fonts in editorial typography and logo design lettering.

You can see this evolution in a continuation of The Vienna Succesion’s creative glory, on display in Letterform Archive’s latest book, which reproduces all 14 issues of arguably the first modern graphic design magazine. More than a rich sourcebook of early 20th-century graphic trends, Die Fläche (“The Surface” in English) shows the lasting impact of this movement, proving that riotous color and flamboyant forms can—with a new twist—work beyond posters, endpapers, bookmarks, and playing cards. 

In both cases, heritage typefaces reappear through the filter of type treatments that celebrate flatness, expressive geometry, and stylized lettering.

Examples: Fayte by That That Creative (top left); Grundtvig Typeface by REY (Reinaldo Camejo), guided by Leon Romero (specimen and inspiration on right); Rumble Kill by Invasi Studio (bottom).

Type’s expansion in the year ahead will be spectacular, with creative letterers embracing the elasticity of our current societal drivers: gender, demographics, and spirituality. With each of us in our bubbles of adaptive algorithms and varying social concerns, type must perform its greatest act yet: appeal to disparate individuals under one strategic banner.

Type is no longer about simple communication. Now, letterforms are chasing new soul-stirring ends that calm, enchant, thrill, humor, and mesmerize us.

A brand’s longevity requires future-proofing through inclusivity and storytelling, and type must encapsulate similar fluidity. Because we are increasingly a multidimensional and complex society, our letterforms are evolving into malleable crystalline forms through A.I. and other technologies that allow letters to quickly hop in and out of prompted scenarios. While Herman Miller is back in its Helvetica Era, other brands and institutions are embracing the new era.

Typography must be increasingly pliable, proprietary, astonishing, and marvelous. We’re all gathered under its big tent, seeking a bliss point that electrifies us. With a fuse lit by A.I., type is skyrocketing out of a cannon into the unknown, obliged to be distinct yet encompassing in one magnificent stroke.

Like love, you just know when you find the right font pairing.

Monotype recently launched an A.I. font-pairing tool to help designers streamline this process. Regarding A.I.-driven assistance for designers, we love the potential for this tool to speed up the selection process and expose us to possibilities outside our personal frames of reference. Read more about the tool.

Font pairings are extremely valuable; they provide variety, functionality, and tone of voice, sparking a new brand or breathing life into an old one.

Monotype, on the release of the A.I. font-pairing tool

Even if Valentine’s Day is our least-favorite holiday, we can all get behind fantastic typeface duos. So, we asked several designers about their favorite type pairs. Their responses (100% designer-generated and not A.I.) are below.

Giuseppe Salerno & Paco González @ Resistenza

Giuseppe Salerno: Turquoise Tuscan and Mina Chic

“This pairing is perfect for its captivating contrast. [Mina Chic] introduces a sense of personality and warmth with its handwritten charm, while the Roman [Turquoise Tuscan] imparts structure and readability through its classic letterforms and the Tuscan serifs. This combination creates a timeless choreography, perfect for evoking a classic romantic essence. Together, they strike a harmonious balance between tradition and modernity, crafting a visual symphony that leaves a lasting impression. What a delightful fusion!”

A tip from Giuseppe: “Dive into the OpenType features to uncover a wide array of alternate letters and swashes, empowering you to fashion a unique composition tailored to your creative vision.”

Paco González: Norman and Nautica

“Norman, a condensed serif font, and Nautica, a classic script font with a romantic flair, offer a delightful fusion of styles. Both fonts boast an extensive array of alternate letters and swashes, allowing for easy customization through OpenType. Nautica injects personality and whimsy, while Norman provides a solid foundation of structure and clarity combined with an elegant sense of style. This unexpected pairing creates a lovely synergy that seamlessly blends modernity with timeless elegance, making it exceptionally versatile for various applications. Together, Norman and Nautica form a perfect match, a harmonious duet that ensures every glance becomes an unforgettable experience.”

Resistenza is a type foundry consisting of Giuseppe Salerno, a trained calligrapher who gained his graphic design skills in Torino, Italy, and Paco González, a self-taught Spanish-born designer from Valencia. Working mostly by hand, a bold, humanistic quality comes through in their graphic design, emphasizing a connection with the places and people that use a particular product or service.

Marie Boulanger, Design Team Lead @ Monotype

Juana and Cooper BT

“Love means something different to everyone, but I am going to go with my current definition and experience of romantic love. You need a mix of friction and compatibility for good results, and I guess that applies to type choices too! It’s boring when things are too smooth. You can engineer and craft the perfect hypothetical pair, but sometimes you need a little bit of weirdness for it to work. Think of the best couples you know! My own perfect pair of fonts for Love-themed designs would be something like Juana, a sharp and refined serif, with Cooper BT. Everyone knows Cooper Black, but it looks beautiful in lighter weights two. 

While this pairing is more instinctive than based on algorithm,  I like the effect of using sharp and soft letters in such close proximity. Love is never boring, and things are always changing.”

French-British Type designer Marie Boulanger leads the Design Team at Monotype, creating compelling visual assets and design-led campaigns that push the cultural conversation around linguistics and type design.

Joana Correia @ Nova Type

Lemongrass and Brandon Grotesque

“As the perfect pair I have chosen my font Lemongrass because I love script fonts and this was a love affair when designing it. It shows sweetness but also vibrant and energetic. I paired it with Brandon Grotesque because of the contrast and complementary aspect to them. Brandon Grotesque was one of my first loves in typography. I love the round corners and old school design. I think it matches great with Lemongrass and brings balance but still keeping a sweet look. Lemongrass is part of Nova Type Foundry library and Brandon Grotesque from HVD fonts that I admire and have inspired me to be a type designer. 

For me love language is humor and playfulness. I think it’s important in Love to keep humor and playfulness as part of the relationship to make it last with compassion and kindness. These two typefaces mean kindness and openness to live life. These two typefaces connect to what I like to bring to live in my designs, kindness, a warm look and openness. They show a bit of who I am as well. 

I like the old school and decorative aspect to the fonts relating it to the 90’s when I was a teenager and finding out what love is.”

Joana Correia is a multi-award winning type designer, speaker, and founder of Nova Type, an independent font foundry specializing in original fonts and infusing content with emotion.

John Roshell @ Swell Type

Matinee Idol and Paradise Point

“Matinee Idol may be a high class script font, but it’s ready to kick off its shoes and have a good time. Paradise Point is playful and unpretentious, but also sturdy and reliable — it’s a font that can take you on a surprise weekend getaway with all the details worked out. 

These fonts were both drawn with a single rounded pen stroke, which makes them look great together. And coincidentally, both were inspired by lettering I found on movie posters — Matinee Idol from the 1940s, and Paradise Point from the ‘60s. Is this a meet cute or what?”

Building on decades of experience as a designer of fonts for comic books, video games, TV shows and movies, John Roshell’s Swell Type takes inspiration from the real-world signs and scenery of California.

Give Monotype’s new font-pairing tool a test drive here.

“I often use your book Scripts: Elegant Lettering From Design’s Golden Age for font inspiration,” writes Irish designer Dominic Stanley, “and I was looking for something expressive that could have been drawn by a lettering artist or sign painter.”

The Montresor wine label below stood out for Stanley. “As it emphasized the gap between the down and up strokes, I thought this was a really interesting sign painting effect. So I expanded the character set, played around with different angles and eventually turned the font upright and lost the serifs (though there’s no way Fred Smeijers would classify it as a Sans!). Maso is a different take on a classic style. True to its roots, it works well for branding and packaging and, funnily enough, with Italian words. It’s the second font release through my foundry Stanley Fonts after Liet Display. … With Maso, there are more weights, styles and characters to come. I’m going to expand the font in stages, so this 400-character single style set is $9.99, and anyone who supports it now will receive all updates for free.”

In 2023, Monotype predicted maximalism, comic book-inspired styles, and textured 3D letterforms, to name a few. But what should we expect in 2024? Curated by Monotype Type Designers Jordan Bell and Damien Collot, this year’s report identifies ten trends in type and brand design set to shape the broader cultural zeitgeist. “In this, our fourth Annual Type Trends Report, we found a movement away from the trend of cuddly, squishy, empathetic fonts that many brands and creatives embraced after the alienation and stress of the pandemic,” said Bell. “This year, in a time that can feel nostalgic for the digital simplicity of the pre-smartphone, pre-AI world, we see designers returning to the heritage and comfort of more traditional serif fonts, and also finding new creative inspiration in ’90s and early ’00s scenes like grunge, jungle, and early rave culture.”

As part of the report, the Monotype team reimagined each of the ten trends as worn vinyl LP covers, thus connecting each type of trend to a specific musical genre. Each vinyl cover was created through Midjourney AI to underscore the tension between our current nostalgia for the old analog world at odds with simultaneous immersion in a new AI-infused digital age.

Against a backdrop of break-neck speed innovation and social change, we found seemingly opposing concepts being combined by designers and influenced by both future possibilities and nostalgia for the past, perhaps heralding a new, more contradictory era of creativity.

Damien Collot

A sneak peek breakdown of the report is below. 

1. EVERYTHINGALLOFTHETIME

As the name of this trend suggests, EVERYTHINGALLOFTHETIME (a reference to comedian Bo Burnham’s song, ‘Welcome to the Internet’) is all about more is more. “EVERYTHINGALLOFTHETIME challenges designers to use all the colors, textures, and typefaces they could reasonably fit in a design,” states the report. Monotype points to cannabis company Ben’s Best BLnz as an example of this trend in action, whose branding uses multiple typefaces from Vocal Type’s Tré Seals with vibrant artworks by black artists Dana Robinson and Pentagram’s Eddie Opara.

2. Whatever

The Whatever trend is born from ’90s nostalgia, encompassing “a spectrum of styles from nihilistic grunge to colorful pixel play,” says the report. “Picture digital gradients, big, bold type, and drop shadows.” Influenced by Gen Z and Millennials coming of age in the twenty-twenties, Whatever acknowledges the resurgence of ‘90s aesthetics permeating industries ranging from fashion to music to design.

3. SYSTM

In contrast to EVERYTHINGALLOFTHETIME, the SYSTM trend is a return to structure, control, and precision. It embodies the concept of Slow Design peddled by Martijn van der Does (the Executive Creative Director of Amsterdam studio, WONDERLAND), which is all about a reconsideration and even a return to traditional principles. “Despite having an engineered feel or approach to designing letters, SYSTM projects feel analog and human-made,” writes Monotype. “Softer forms and thoughtful grid-breaking construction of letterforms enhance the human factor.”

4. De-form

The aptly named De-Form style invites designers to use methods of typographic distortion that have previously been frowned upon. “Maybe we need to break age-old rules to express a deep state of uprising after what we have collectively seen and experienced this year,” writes Monotype.

The rebellion will be typeset!

2024 Monotype Trends Report

5. Flux

Flux goes hand-in-hand with the De-Form trend. It looks fast and dynamic and harkens to movement, whether animated or static forms inspired by motion. Flux often employs AI to create dynamic or interactive movements.

6. Quirk

Quirk pinpoints that sweet spot in branding and visuals where something stands out but still feels comforting and accessible. A slight flourish or a subtle something extra to capture one’s attention is central to Quirk. “This trend is all about finding a balance between comfort and a little bit of chaotic energy,” reads the report, “where subtle quirks wink at you from behind the familiar forms of solid, stable sans serifs.”

7. Counter Attack

Serving as the inverse to Quirk, Counter Attack is all about packing a punch through what isn’t there. The negative space here demands to be seen and celebrated.

The type in this trend is full of charisma and dynamic energy all formed around the hollow shapes at the heart of each letter.

2024 Monotype Trends Report

8. PROFESHINAL

PROFESHINAL harnesses the ability to appear effortless yet carefully considered. Off-handed and quirky, yet balanced with a professional sophistication. “If the world of graphic design strives to produce perfect creations,” explains Monotype, “this trend offers a counterbalance by celebrating perfectly imperfect designs that are proudly and unapologetically authentic.”

9. 100% Natural

100% Natural is a two-fold trend. It nods to brands looking to imbue their look and feel with an element of nature while looking to the quality of the organic and handmade. “This trend sheds light on how our environment inspires us to create and how textures and techniques can convey raw, honest, and playful emotion,” reads the report.

10. Return of the Serif

Look who’s back! After a dominant phase of the streamlined cleanliness of sans-serif styles, serifs appear to be back with a vengeance. Chalk it up to nostalgia or the comfort of tradition, as more and more brands are looking to the delicacy and classic look of serif typefaces to elicit warmth and stand out in a field of minimalistic sans.

The Monotype team curated playlists on Spotify to accompany the report for an added experiential dimension. Sink your teeth into the full Monotype Trends Report for 2024 here!

For his approach to typographic and graphic design that incorporates cultural and political histories to create socially relevant visual identities and campaigns, Morcos receives a 2024 Vilcek Prize for Creative Promise in Design.

Representing Language, Representing Ourselves

Morcos’ passion for Arabic typography grew after he moved to the United States from Lebanon—first to pursue studies at the Rhode Island School of Design and then to build a career as a graphic designer in New York. “I was drawn back to my native language, culture, and stories I see myself in. Designing in Arabic from New York City is perhaps an act of resistance,” he says, “but also an act of reaching out, inviting others to engage, utilize, and be inspired by it.”

When you design a font, you’re designing a tool for people to express themselves.

Wael Morcos

“Our language is as much auditory as it is visual. When you design a font, you’re designing a tool for people to express themselves,” says Morcos. “I consider typography the most potent tool in a designer’s arsenal. It has the ability to amplify the meaning of words and to advocate for representation.”

Morcos describes typography as a product of the time it was created and also as having a life that extends well beyond. “Arabic typography needed our help to be reimagined, redesigned for a modern context for modern lives,” he says. His fonts have been distributed through institutional channels like Google and other publishing platforms, bridging the gap between tradition and modernity, “carrying on with how we represent our language and therefore ourselves.”

Amplifying Arab American Stories

As an immigrant, Morcos finds himself drawn to create work that resonates with him personally and connects his nostalgia for Beirut and Lebanon with his life in the United States. He recently championed the development of Mizna’s I Want Sky, a literary journal that shines a spotlight on the experiences of LGBTQ+ Arabs. Through a fusion of multi-script typography, lettering, and illustrations, Morcos illuminates the narratives of a diverse queer community that yearns for understanding—drawing inspiration from the legacy of illuminated Arabic homoerotic poetry and speaking to the contemporary struggles and triumphs of this community.

Committed to amplifying Arab American voices, Morcos is a co-founder of 1on1 projects, a Brooklyn-based collective that works to elevate the stories and experiences of Arab and Muslim Americans through arts, performances, and programs. “You miss a lot of your old self and all the support system you took for granted back at home,” he says. “I try to use my design practice to re-create some of these contexts that are important for me.”

About The Vilcek Foundation Prizes in Design

The Vilcek Foundation Prizes in Design celebrate immigrant professionals in graphic design, industrial design, and product design whose work has profoundly impacted their specific field and design, design thinking, and practice more broadly in the United States.

The Vilcek Prizes for Creative Promise in Design specifically recognize immigrant designers age 38 and younger whose work represents an essential contribution to their field and exemplifies the potential for design to change and shape how people interact with their world. In 2024, the Vilcek Foundation awards 3 Vilcek Prizes for Creative Promise in Design, recognizing industrial designer Juan Carlos Noguera (b. Guatemala) and artist and designer Maryam Turkey (b. Iraq) alongside Morcos.

Learn more about the Vilcek Foundation and the 2024 Vilcek Foundation Prizes in Design at Vilcek.org.

Wael Morcos is a 2015 PRINT New Visual Artist.

Designed by the South American type foundry, PampaType, Perec Scripte’s loopy, bubbly, cheerful style contrasts with its angular, linear, grotesque sans sibling. The Perec superfamily is named after the French novelist, filmmaker, and experimenter extraordinaire George Perec. It’s a fitting name given how PampaType’s design team likes to play with form, aiming for originality over easily classified.

I have always loved store signs with script style letters, especially if, while trying to evoke an existing font, it remains half hidden under the personal interpretation of the sign maker.

Alejandro Lo Celso

“Perec Scripte is part of the Perec superfamily, an ongoing project I started in 2009 as a tribute to one of my favorite authors, Georges Perec, singular writer, tireless explorer of wordplay, champion of refreshing the literary conventions of his time,” PampaType’s founder and creative director, Alejandro Lo Celso writes. “The idea of an additional script style for the Perec family was suggested by the driving force of the project itself, the invention of self-imposed challenges, in this case, how to combine within the text a script font with a sanserif grotesque.”

Even though Perec Scripte looks like a tangent, you’ll come to see the Perec system as its design team sees it: a “diverse palette of easily combinable forms.” What’s cool about Perec Script is its versatility. It’s a combination of two writing styles, bound and unbound. Through its design challenge, the results include linked and unlinked forms, six weights, a decorative version full of impact, robust linguistic support, and lots of typographic extras. It’s not only for display, either, adding a playful yet easily readable flow to body text.

Alejandro Lo Celso founded Pampa Type, Argentina’s first independent type foundry, in Cordoba in 2001. With a team that now spans from South and Central America to France and Dubai, Pampa Type prides itself on organic, handcrafted letterforms and impeccable attention to detail.

Learn more about Perec Scripte and the Perec superfamily.