Beauty – Fragments of Beauty

The Great Magazine Depression

elementi — Sun, 08 Sep 2024 06:15:03 +0000

Lately I’ve been thinking about what has become of the great fashion magazines of our time. Sure they still exist, but rarely am I inclined to pop into one of Verona's Giornalai and buy one. There were times when it seemed impossible for me to do any kind of work without having at least a double-page spread of Vogue Italia next to my computer on my desk. Like the Bible for a priest on the altar, those double-page spreads with photos of Paolo Roversi and the beautiful young #Natalia Vodianova made me hold my breath and dive into a kind of dreamland where my creations allowed me to get closer to her or whatever my imagination was planting on her beautiful face.

The beautiful young Natalia Vodianova made me hold my breath and dive into a kind of dreamland…

There was also the aspect of the magazine layout that secretly played an important role in this game of fantasy. These pages were works of art, ‘Compositions!’ as an old friend of mine (a painter) used to exclaim. The text was carefully matched to the content of the images, and sometimes fonts were even created to reflect a particular aspect of a designer’s work or to enhance the way photos were composed next to each other. This is a flashback to one of my typefaces called Simmetria, based on an idea by Luca Stoppini and part of a page he masterfully composed in Vogue Italia. And it makes me think back to that time and wonder if the next time I happen to be standing in front of a Giornalaio, I’ll stick around and buy one. Credits: Luca Stoppini | Art Direction

That’s why we (perhaps) love circles

elementi — Thu, 30 Dec 2021 10:26:47 +0000

As promised, I will publish some posts about the ongoing work on Signer Text. However, it is incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to present the work process in a truly didactic way. It is very difficult even for myself to keep track of what I am doing. The process is so very intuitive and must be based on something almost unconscious. Recently I saw a very interesting documentary about an American writer who once claimed that writing is the division into two parts: the work of a drunk, revised by a sober. I have a feeling that this is quite similar in the process of designing typefaces. The drawing process, which interestingly enough usually makes crucial turns and progress during the night, is revised and slightly corrected in the early morning. Consequently, it is difficult to force oneself to jot down, to photograph ideas in this intuitive, unconscious, “drunken” phase. Nevertheless, I will try to reflect some thoughts and influences that push my letter images in a certain direction rather than another. In creating the Signer Text, I’m not quite sure yet what its destination will be, what I want to express character-wise. Certainly there is the eternal inspiration of the Franklin Gothic to achieve something truly elegant, classic, dynamic, but also stable and solid.

There is the eternal inspiration of the Franklin Gothic to achieve something truly elegant, classic, dynamic, but also stable and solid.

While drawing, I noticed that I seem to be following some symmetry ideas that are particularly evident in Signer. In the capital letter ‘S’, for example, I recognized the symmetry, the balance between left and right on the upper inner form under the “ceiling” of the top turn of the lettering toward the top. This seems to give the letter some stability. So I temporarily added a new intermediate curve point that almost perfectly matched the hidden circle, which of course I only had in my imagination while I was drawing. I added the red circle later to make it easier to understand. Again, I strongly believe that these ideas should not be slavishly followed during the working process, because that would prevent us from getting into that intuitive state of mind. Since the Renaissance, the circle has had a strong meaning. It is also a metaphor for stability, harmonious movement, and even something that, on another level of perception, signifies life itself. The beautiful 19-year-old Natalia Vodianova, photographed by Paolo Roversi, might give us a clue. I put her on my desk while drawing, and as many, many years ago, she still inspires me. The rest is pure imagination… Read also [German and Italian language] Credits: Paolo Roversi | Photography Natalia Vodianova | Model

Magazine Double-Pages from My University Archives

elementi — Fri, 27 Aug 2021 06:15:09 +0000

I remember cutting out these beautiful cursive text blocks in Garamond (No. 3) from photographic enlargements made with a reproduction photo camera. It took me a while to arrive at these seemingly simple layout solutions. Purely composing like a painter, with text instead of color and form. The image overlaying text blocks were enlarged and developed on transparent film material, which I carefully mounted over the color photocopies of those wonderful F. C. Gundlach photographs I had found in an antiquarian bookstore (and with whose long-gone beauties I had literally fallen in love).

In those days, there was a lot of work with scissors and montage, which in a way forced us to think about typography differently than we do today.

In those days, there was a lot of work with scissors and montage, which in a way forced us to think about typography differently than we do today. This had a lasting impact on my way of perceiving sets of text, which in turn seemed to be woven from excellent (phototypesetting) typefaces as if into a tapestry. Flipping through my old Daniel Berkeley Updike copy of Printing Types, Their History of Forms and Use recently, I suddenly realized that what I was doing resembled what the old printers of the 15th century produced with text as form, compact and as the purest element of composition. Only later did I begin to discover what Brodovitch and Liberman were doing for the famous fashion magazines. I'm still very interested in magazine layout. Although, well, I would do it differently than what I see in most magazines today. I would go back to composing with text.... Credits: F. C. Gundlach | Photography Guido Löhrer | Photography (reproduction)

From a time when…

elementi — Tue, 17 Aug 2021 11:26:31 +0000

… we were fashion editor, casting director, photographer, art director, typographer and type designer all rolled into one. The story behind the “blue” photography was quite unusual and perhaps worth telling. I intended to photograph scenes of extreme elegance, and of course in Paris. But as a student I had no money, so I decided to develop a concept to photograph fashion on real women in the street. A kind of street photography, but with the ambition to make something very elegant. So I spent 2 weeks in Paris (I settled on a campsite near the Bois de Bologne) looking for beautiful, well-dressed women. An endeavor that was not as easy as I had imagined. In order to take these kinds of paparazzi shots without a model, I had to remain unidentified. I used a 500mm telephoto lens with mirrors that allowed me to shoot handheld without attracting too much attention. For this, I used high-sensitivity 3200 ASA film material. In this way, I could shoot by hand and achieve exposure times of 1/250s or less to maintain focus. With a motor shutter, I took more than 600 shots (which was quite a lot at the time, since I was using analog film). Much of this footage was trash, but occasionally something really beautiful happened.

After I took a series of shots, the beautiful lady began to notice my uninvited presence. But perhaps she also saw in what state of arousal I was. […] She let me finish my work with indulgence.

However, the most amazing and exciting scene was this beautiful young lady sitting in a sidewalk cafe (I don't remember where) behind the window, probably talking to a friend. I was so mesmerized by her beauty that I forgot everything that was happening around me. I stopped almost in the middle of a chaotic street with parked cars, passengers around me complaining.... After I took a series of shots, the beautiful lady (although I was at some distance) began to notice my uninvited presence. But perhaps she also saw in what state of arousal I was. For she gave me a beautiful but barely noticeable smile and continued talking as if nothing had happened. She let me finish my work with indulgence. Later, in the dark room, I developed the coarse-grained film on hard photographic paper (AGFA barrit no 5 graduation) to make the grain stand out even more and achieve an almost abstract pointillism effect. Further, using a special chemical treatment, I changed the silver tones to a dark blue and experimented with it for almost 2 weeks. (At that time, you could hardly enter the lab at the university without running into me there.) In the process, I noticed that the grain was no longer as even. So I bought retouching paints in all shades of blue to gray, and with a fine hair brush I filled in the holes, at the same time scraping free the paper white in the condensations with a medical scalpel. This took me another 2 weeks. Extremely concentrated, almost meditative work. But I was completely in love with this beautiful face. I decided to redraw a classic fashion typeface, Caslon No. 540 from Linotype, by hand to accompany my photographs. I enlarged the letters and drew them on tracing paper, which I placed over them. In this way I achieved a more beautiful and graceful typeface, especially by making the hairlines thinner. Then the letter images were zoomed out again with a reproduction camera and mounted on a transparent film, which was then deducted as contact under vacuum. The resulting text blocks or words were also exposed on AGFA No. 5 to achieve the absolute black on a brilliant white. According to my previous conceptual studies, I wanted the individual words (seVouer) to appear “cut out” of a text block surrounding. So I intentionally added partially truncated letters of the following or preceding words of an imaginary sentence. One could say that the whole process was a very personal result of “se Vouer”: to dedicate oneself to something close to the border of self-sacrifice in order to represent beauty. Credits: Stefan Seifert | Photography Guido Löhrer | Photography (reproduction) Unknown | Model Beatrix Herre | Model (legs)

What happens if you get influenced by Spanish type?

elementi — Thu, 22 Apr 2021 09:25:00 +0000

During my recent researches for the Girl character involved in a Balenciaga lettering it happened that I woke up in the morning for my early espresso coffee studying historical Spanish typefaces. Which we all know have a very special and distinct style. They stand out in the history of the evolution of printed typefaces right from the beginning in the early 15th century. At the same time I was using this beautiful Marc Lagrange photography to inspire myself and compare the forms that I was trying to refine for my Advanced Sans Serif typeface. This girl has this beautiful flower at her ear and I thought: Well, this could be it. It is kind of a “flourish” element that those early (and later) Spanish type-cutters added to their letters. Where others used flat serifs or rectangular stroke endings the Spanish typefaces used to do add little curvy lines, sometimes a little curlycue here and there.

It is about something deeply rooted in their cultural story.

But, it’s not that their typefaces simply are decorative. Because they aren’t and it would be a great injustice to say so. Because this would diminish their effect, the class of their own they have. It is more about something deeply rooted in their cultural story. Recently I also watched old photographs in a book about the early Bazaar years (to see Balenciaga’s style) and there was this photo of a beautiful young bullfighter woman with a hat that almost seemed part of a costume typical for her profession. There were strange looking ribbons folded like leaves on its top, kind of curvy and playful. Because, if we are honest, not one flower would have a straight line in its shapes. All was in tension, yet wounded around its axis. But, just like in this Balenciaga hat which had a strict circle, almost stiffy base form what happens to make those Spanish forms more than merely ornamental is their juxtaposition to at the same time rigorous geometric principles.

They aim for the perfect circle and in this they are more than most of all other typefaces near to early Italian Renaissance spirit.

This is what I also see in Spanish incunabula typography. The tendency to allow those decorative elements but melt them with severe classic constructive principles. To say this more simply: they aim for the perfect circle (within this lies the simple secret of #beauty) and in this they are more than most of all other typefaces near to early Italian Renaissance spirit. There is nothing of Baroque in their forms. Ideas that later on would have done so much harm to the best principles of printing types! So, I worked on with my Advanced typeface numbers. I am already in a phase were I am not willing anymore to do great changes (so tiresome achieved an overall balance) but I almost unconscioulsy (the fact that I am writing about, I guess, proves that not so unconscious) reviewed Bézier details on the stroke endings as here in the ‘3’, added an inclined ending on the upper ‘7’ horizontal and others.

It is quite interesting that the slightly more decorative stroke endings and conjunctions which tend to close the counter forms a little bit more, in this tend to support the mentioned circle ideals instead of doing harm.

Subtly, in that way I enhanced the calligraphic principles, slightly opening the endings (like a flower) and at the same time refined their inner forms a bit to achieve cleaner circles. And it is quite interesting that the slightly more decorative stroke endings and conjunctions which tend to close the counter forms a little bit more, in this tend to support the mentioned circle ideals instead of doing harm. I knew that this inconspicuous play with details would lead me to change many of my letters, seek again for their subtle tension between geometric inner form and calligraphic endings. Nevertheless, I decided to let it happen. Because, in the end, I always had a soft spot for those Spanish typefaces. ¡Olé! Credits: Marc Lagrange | Photography

Ultrafine Ravish Numbers Revisited

elementi — Thu, 05 Dec 2019 22:38:31 +0000

Sometimes it needs a little input to turn back to work on a character we did in the past. I owe this one to a very special person. These ultrafine numbers belong to a typeface which is called Ravish. I did a series of different weights varying also between rhythm and letter widths. It has a slight remembrance of characters such as Helvetica, yet is meant to add some special elegant detail. Most of its letters have unclosed lines. Beautiful Gemma Ward photographed by french photographer Patrick Demarchelier inspired me during the work process. Special difficulties arise on such very fine letters where it comes to form conjunctions as here in the ‘2’. Detailed Bézier curves were introduced to keep the transition between its upper bowl and the diagonal downstroke smoother. Credits: Patrick Demarchelier | Photography

An Eternal Story

elementi — Tue, 12 Nov 2019 19:40:06 +0000

Beauty at its pure state. Marc Lagrange, Belgian photographer signs responsible for this beautiful portrait of a woman. Since I was a young artist in my university years I was fascinated by this juxtaposition of female inspirational beauty and the shapes of letters. It has been an eternal motivation for me to design, to draw, to spend endless hours on shaping those outlines.

It seemed to me the final goal to reunite them with what Marcel Proust meant by the memory of a scent.

They are intended to just reflect something of their eternal wonderful forms. I dreamt of doing a perfume design. As it seemed to me the final goal to reunite them with what Marcel Proust meant by the memory of a scent. ‘G’ is from Ravish character’s ultrathin font version. Credits: Marc Lagrange | Photography

What is it that makes letters elegant?

elementi — Tue, 16 Jul 2019 14:46:45 +0000

I always tried to achieve a certain elegance in my typeface creations. Which is an elegance to be confronted with youth, the female body, but at the same time a certain classicism. And yes, letters and alphabets suitable for luxury products. Things that are resembled in this photography. What do we see here? Sunlight. Wine. A beautiful young woman. The clearly visible structure of her legs’ bones. Difficult, ambiguous areas as in the zones around her knees. Where we see parts of bones that seem to fight for prominence. Subtle parts of her skin where the sunlight flows between her skin’s hair. But, as well, a certain hint at luxury, #allure, warmth and elegant Renaissance architecture in her background. We may think of Chanel’s logotype. The simplicity of those lines. Instinctively we search for products on this table to be marked with its appearance. We might as well imagine the scent of this young lady. ‘G’ and ‘A’ from Advanced typeface in the process of growth. What I like about this character, as an example, are the well pronounced horizontal lines. Which is a one of the tricks to add elegance to a sans serif font. And, even though it is much easier to balance a letter’s structure with elements that add stability (as it is the vertical foot line in Helvetica’s ‘G’, for an example), I tried to renounce them. Upper parts of this ‘G’ are still way before being perfect. It might take further months or years to elaborate this character’s lines. Just as long as I am inspired by images of beauty combined with personal dreams, personal artistic views on a world which is (we know that by reason) non existent. But, which we still admire and reach out to express.

Garamont: My First Letter Drawings

elementi — Tue, 02 Oct 2018 06:54:25 +0000

Last month you could read about my first love Garamond(t) and since then I wanted this little story to have another sequel. Well, here it is. From the basement of my parents I got some of my very first type design drawings ever: my pencil drawn reinterpretation of Imprimerie Nationale’s wonderful Garamont character* (which in truth go back to drawings of Jean Jannon). First of all I like to thank again Christian Paput who in this long past time was so kind to send me their beautiful hot metal printed type specimen from the 1960’s on which I began to work in the last of my university years. And yes, it took me quite a while just to finish the major part of the lowercase alphabet. Whenever I might have underrated the time a work should be supposed to take me, well, this was the record! From a friend of mine I borrowed an old photographic enlarger to zoom the letters from this printed specimen and my idea was to simply trace the so recovered lines with a pencil, fill them with black in a second step and mount them for the first specimen sheets. The two weeks I wished to take me for that task turned out to be a half year and I couldn’t imagine that even then not more than 2 dozens of letters would have been finished.

I underrated completely what those new lines would need to have to be called in reality outlines of a real typeface!

For I was a complete beginner I underrated completely what those new lines would need to have to be called in reality outlines of a real typeface! Fortunately, I had already some taste to judge my first attempts, so I was able to state that they were of no value, at all. So I rubbed out and redraw, rubbed out and redraw etc. Until after some 2 months or so I got nothing but my first idea of a serious letter. (I don’t remember which one.) I spoke to professors of my faculty but, to be honest, there weren't much of a great help to discover the secrets of a true Roman printing type. But the story came to a happy ending. Though, it was not even close to what I proposed myself to achieve (having a character to work with) it ignited my passion to design typefaces, forever. Read also [German and Italian language] Credits: Guido Löhrer | Photography

Osservazioni

elementi — Wed, 13 Jun 2018 16:42:12 +0000

E così potevamo studiare la bellezza del suo viso, fatto interamente di archi (la base dei suoi capelli descriveva un cerchio perfetto sopra la sua fronte giovanile e arrotondata, così come le sue sopracciglia ornamentali), potevamo assorbire la sua magia, nel modo in cui potremmo guardare un ritratto di Modigliani le cui metà del viso sono composte da cerchi che si avvicinano dall’ignoto, o come il lato opposto, illuminato dal sole, del cortile del portico di un monastero ci viene rivelato in immagini interrotte, apparentemente ripetitive, di cui riconosciamo la piena prospettiva solo alla fine, dopo averle guardate tutte.1

E come eravamo quando camminavamo, nascosti, lungo il corridoio in ombra, così è quando osserviamo una bellezza: siamo soli.

Dico una bellezza perché ce ne sono tante diverse. Se all’inizio ci può apparire nella nostra immaginazione come una grande massa uniforme e sconosciuta, in realtà è il nostro desiderio che non la distingue; così come non fa differenza tra le gambe vestite di nero di una ragazza che colpisce per il suo passo giovanile; o le gambe di un’altra, che sta a gambe incrociate e ci mostra con disinvoltura le calze di lana bianche, forse più adatte a quelle di una bambina, all’altezza delle ginocchia, quel delizioso rilievo che ci è così caro e familiare*; o il seno vivace di una donna di mezza età: sono davvero molte parti di molteplici bellezze. Per riconoscerle nel loro vero senso, in cui devono essere lette, bisogna immergersi in esse. E nel momento in cui lo facciamo, esse ci appaiono di nuovo come quella massa le cui parti ci sembrano universali (mentre siamo ancora coinvolti in esse), solo messe insieme in un certo modo: solo alla fine, dopo essere usciti dal loro vortice, ci accorgeremo che ognuna di esse ha un carattere completamente diverso, ognuna è unica a suo modo.

Solo alla fine, dopo essere usciti dal loro vortice, ci accorgeremo che ognuna di esse ha un carattere completamente diverso, ognuna è unica a suo modo.

Già: anche nei disegni dei caratteri, quando li guardiamo stampati su carta dopo tanto tempo, possiamo improvvisamente vederne i difetti con sorprendente certezza: se tornassimo su di essi, ci accorgeremmo inevitabilmente che non riusciamo più a penetrarne la vera struttura (proprio perché sono individuali, irripetibili); rimarremmo in qualche modo al di fuori di essi, ammirando le loro elaborazioni – che, tranne le lacune, sono perfette -; e non resterebbe che chiedersi come ci siamo arrivati.
E in quei vuoti potremmo essere rimasti noi stessi, come su un banco di sabbia in una grotta piena d’acqua. Ecco la risposta alla domanda su come noi3 siamo riusciti sopravviverci!

1 – [‘Und so konnten wir die Schönheit ihres Gesichtes studieren, das ganz aus Bögen bestand (einen perfekten Kreis beschrieb der Ansatz ihres Haars über der jugendlich gerundeten Stirn, so wie auch die ornamentalen Augenbrauen), konnten ihren Zauber aufnehmen, in der Art wie wir ein Modigliani-Portrait betrachten, dessen Gesichtshälften sich aus, aus dem Unbekannten herannahenden, Kreisen zusammenfügten, oder wie sich uns in dem Säulengang eines Klosters die gegenüberliegende, sonnenbeleuchtete Seite des Hofes in unterbrochenen, sich zu wiederholen scheinenden Bildern, offenbart, deren ganze Perspektive wir erst zum Schluss erkennen, nachdem wir sie alle betrachtet haben.

Und so wie wir es waren, als wir, verborgen, den beschatteten Gang entlang gingen, ist es, wenn wir eine Schönheit beobachten: wir sind allein.’]

2 – Simile in nessun altro animale, che lascia la piccola ruota ossea [«rotea»] quando non sporge da essa, cioè quando la gamba non è piegata: questa rientranza apparentemente irregolare* dei tessuti, causata dai minuscoli muscoli che si ritraggono verso l’interno, intorno ad essa, ma che nella femmina è fornita di carne sufficiente a non mostrare alcuna rigidità dura; può evocare, come in miniatura, certi paesaggi irlandesi: Delicate colline e avvallamenti su cui la luce del sole si proietta, il suo tappeto è screziato e maestoso, interrotto a brevi intervalli dalle ombre di piccole nuvole che ne attraversano la superficie con grande velocità.
[*Il motivo per cui alcuni dicono che è una parte brutta della gamba femminile – ma è una delle più belle!]

3 – Ovvero: il nostro impulso creativo.