pdf 1 - exhibitions international

6 Introduction 7
Culture, communication, typography
← Page from the type specimen
launching the Erbar typeface, Ludwig
& Mayer, Frankfurt am Main, 1930.
The text reads, with lowercase modesty
(or pretence): ‘the face of our time is
crisp and business-like. the new forms
of building are no longer architecture in
the old sense: construction plus façade.
the new garment is not a costume. the
new letter is not calligraphy. the shapes
of houses, clothing and letters are deter-
mined by the simplest basic elements.’
↓ Leaflet for ‘Polish handyman team’
in the Netherlands. A typical example of
vernacular desktop design, set centered
in Times New Roman. Martijn Oostra
collection.
A good way to gain an understanding of an era is by exploring the writing and print-
ing of the time. The period around 1930 was a time of change, of sharp contrasts
between the old and the new. The page from the Erbar type specimen shown here
sums that up quite nicely. The ornaments of Baroque architecture (a strong presence
in 1930s German cities, not yet bombed), rococo clothing and Gothic typefaces are
not only portrayed as hopelessly outdated, there’s also something decadent about
them. The Erbar typeface advertised here seems, like other business-like types
from the era, Futura being the forerunner, to be part of a major cleanup. Beneath
the call for the simplification of form slumbers restlessness and thirst for action –
a yearning for new values .
Everything is possible
In our own time too, typography – the shaping of texts – gives interesting indications
about how our culture is doing. For starters, a brief glance over the typographic
landscape does not give any decisive clue about a dominant tendency, about
common desires and dreams. Just like in former times, designers are looking for new
forms that somehow express the technique with which they have been made – and
yet these very same designers hark back to just about every style and letterform that
has been handed to us from the past. Anything goes, and it has become a rare thing
for anyone to get worked up about other people’s choices. This can be interpreted
positively – the world is an infinite reservoir of possibilities of expression, and
nothing is ‘forbidden’ – but it can also be interpreted as indifference: who still cares?
Moreover, there is considerable confusion about the status of the graphic
designer’s craft, not to mention activities that used to be rated as highly specialised
skills, but have virtually disappeared: typesetter, proofreader, lithographer. There are
typesetters in the digital world, but they are few and they are dying out. Their tasks
have tacitly been divided between authors and editors on the one hand, and
designers and DTP specialists on the other. These people are not necessarily trained
to carefully handle text, with the result that text often looks worse than it used too.
Not many people notice, because you get used to everything.
In addition, pieces of visual communication are increasingly being designed by
people who have little time to worry about design and composition, because they
have other things on their minds: their real job is being a manager, secretary or
organiser. Yet a report that a laser printer spits out twelve copies of is also a publica-
tion. A PowerPoint presentation is a form of typography. A blog is a piece of graphic
design, even though bloggers may hardly realise which formal choices are being
made for them and how they can influence that. In short, the advent of the compu-
ter has led to a plethora of unprofessional design. One way graphic designers have
found to deal with that is by incorporating elements of vernacular digital design in
their work – by setting centred text in Arial, Times or Courier, by using italicised
capitals, heavy underlining, black print on yellow, pink or light blue offset paper;
often it is not clear whether this is irony or if this self-consciously ‘undesigned’ style
is now simply regarded as cool. The stylistic confusion is complete.