Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Type: Movies, Mad Men, and Lemonade Stands


The "Mysterious Mr. Moto", in an American kind of Chinese.
Today's post is a set of shots I've been collecting over the past few weeks, so I decided to post them in one, big, fat, font post. Yay! 
The first example comes to you via the Movies! channel, courtesy of the classic movie Mysterious Mr. Moto (1938), with Peter Lorre. I'm a sucker for cheesy pseudo-Asian fonts, especially authentically retro ones like these, redolent of a white guy made up in poorly drawn Chinese eye makeup; it fools no one. A fine specimen of typecasting gone wrong, and cultural appropriation. Please to enjoy!

Uh oh. "Devil's Island". That sounds bad, in a good way.
The map is cartography perfection, though. Nothing wrong or off here. A gorgeous movie opener, overall.

Good advice!
The next type sample comes off the back of a coupon I clipped, now expired, and then flipped over to reveal this gem of a tagline from your friendly neighborhood advertiser. Sage advice, indeed.

Organic is just good all around, type included.
This fontography sample came to me from the fridge one fine morning, friendly and inviting, with the perfect cheerful "Good Morning, Sunshine!" message facing me from the back of a hastily placed half and half carton sitting on the top shelf. It really is a beautiful piece of typesetting, a complete type block set right, and it's interesting, too. That's how you do "inviting" and "pretty" with black display type: it's a gorgeous piece of work on it's own that also fits the artwork just so. The former (M)ad Man in me is pleased. I'm not alone in my cause for good, healthy products, and you can see that the designer cared enough to take the time to craft a package the consumer can enjoy and also feel proud of, through an organic purchase that can feel unjustly costly at times. Nice job!
Classic Americana: the homemade lemonade stand sign, now discarded on the sidewalk, like a kid's dreams about money and enterprise
Like a children's toy abandoned in a yard, this discarded lemonade sign I saw on the sidewalk one afternoon took me back to my own childhood in the country, boringly slow and stingy when it came to money and Scout badges. We never earned enough to justify the time we spent on our pursuit, because there's one car every hour or so on Hudson Valley back roads, which is a good lesson in of itself. It served me and my brother's well when we entered the supposedly hallowed and sacred halls of Big Business in the Big Apple, which is actually our second home, thanks to our very own "Mad Man", our Dad (shhh...don't tell anyone our big "secret"). We don't waste time, because time is a commodity you can't buy or get back once it's gone, like your health. Clever, right?
The infamous Saul Bass, in movies now and forever.
I grabbed my fine, photo-taking device when this famous Saul Bass opener flashed across the t.v. screen, again from the classic movie channel. It's simply one of the best graphics I've ever seen in my life, and you should see it very, very soon. Google Anatomy of a Murder, and be dazzled. It's a humbling piece of art because it really is perfect: on posters and packaging, as motion art, as a set of static images, and a shining example of the power a great graphic has: simple and unforgettable.
"Bye bye", translated into jazz hands and Oscar worthy graphics.

Many a graphic design student feels awe seeing it for the first time, which is why I'm so glad I was technically an Illustration major while at R.I.S.D.: "flawless" can be so very daunting to a youngster taking it all in, trying to learn and keep up at the same time you're desperate to figure it all out: how can I be an artist? What is my style? Will I ever be capable of doing something like that? Dare I hope and dream, even with hours of studio time and practice? What about all that money spent? IS it (and am I) worth it?! We didn't know what awaited us in the world or how it comes together for us as designers, thinkers, intellectuals, and dreamers, and that's a scarier prospect than any business meeting could ever be, on any given day of the week.

The oft-avoided bestseller (for obvious reasons), but the book is set well.
Finally, here's a nicely done chapter opener, something I don't often do as a book designer and art director, because covers are huge, colorful and expensive marketing pieces that take up most of my time, but I appreciate their quiet strength when I see them just the same. When I do find myself in a position that affords me the time to typeset a page that goes with my cover design, I relish it for the synchronicity I so often don't find in business, because of the conflicting production schedules we have in trade publishing. Sigh....oh, well.

Design is hope made visible.

 That's it for now. See ya next time. Y'all come back now, ya here?