PBS, America’s public television network, has been running a 13-part, bi-weekly web series on experimental and non-traditional art forms. Produced by New York-based production company Kornhaber Brown, the “Off Book” program features interviews with well-known designers and artists working in various creative disciplines, including typography, interactive art, book illustrations, product design, indie music, fashion design, videogame art, steampunk, and more. Running between five and seven minutes, each “Off Book” segment lets innovators explore the process, motivation, meaning and relevance behind their work. This segment is on typography. To see other topics in the series, go to PBS.org/arts.

One of the UK’s largest works of public art, the Comedy Carpet, opened in October on the seaside promenade in front of the renowned Tower in Blackpool. Designed by artist Gordon Young in collaboration with Why Not Associates, the typographic landscape is made up of jokes, songs and catch phrases from more than 1,000 British comedians and writers. Commissioned by the Blackpool County Council to create a piece of installation art, Young determined that “Blackpool occupies a unique and important place in the social history of Britain. Comedy in all its guises is a big part of who and what we are…. Blackpool has been a magnetic chuckle point for the nation.” Young added that he also wanted to maintain the high craft standards of Blackpool’s historic architecture, including the famous Winter Gardens, library and Tower. “

The 2,200 square meter Comedy Carpet was five years in the making. Each piece (over 160,000 letters) was cut from solid granite or cobalt blue concrete, arranged into over 300 slabs and cast into a high-quality concrete so it wouldn’t fade. The Comedy Carpet has become an instant tourist attraction, with visitors walking across the promenade and reading the memorable words of legendary comedians.

Polish designer Filip Lysyszn, who dubs himself a “wannabe type designer,” took the typographic asterisk sign and transformed it into different Marvel and DC Comic Superheroes. What’s amazing is how easy it is to identify each Superhero simply by the color of the costume and a few signature details – Batman’s ears, Mr. Fantastic’s stretchy arms, Superman’s cowlick, and Wolverine’s claw hands. Lysyszn even suggested relative size by showing the Hulk as a bulging asterisk and Storm as a more petite asterisk. Aside from being a clever exercise, the asterisk Superhero caricatures show us that every exact detail does not have to be captured to be recognizable – a few iconic elements will suffice. It also suggests that most of us have spent far too much time reading comic books.

Answers:
A. Spider-Man, B. Superman, C. Storm, D. Batman, E. Iron Man, F. Cyclops, G. Wolverine, H. Hulk, I. Mr. Fantastic

This stop-motion video by Lynn Kiang isn’t so much about letterpress printing as it is about where typesetting terminology came from. To understand the nomenclature, it helps to see how type used to be made out of wood or metal. Terms like “upper case” and “lower case” harken back to the days of handset type when capital letters were stored in the upper section of the typecase and small letters in the lower case. Around 1886, the invention of the Linotype speeded up typesetting, letting typesetters keyboard in the text, which was cast out of molten metal one line of type at a time. Depending on the design, these hot-metal “slugs” would either be “leaded out” by placing thin sheets of metal between the lines or closed up by “taking the lead out.” When all the type was set in layout form within a metal frame (“chase”), the printer “locked it up” and “put the job to bed” on the bed of the letterpress. These terms have become industry jargon, but in the age of digital typography, their origin has become lost. This video, set to the soundtrack from “West Side Story,” is a great little primer. Lynn Kiang, an M.F.A. student in graphic design at the Rhode Island School of Design, named her video “Type High,” which means the height of the type from the face to the foot.

In an age when so much design is digitally generated and has the look of being manufactured, it is refreshing to see beautiful display type letters drawn freehand with chalk. Not the kind of hastily written “daily special” menus seen on chalkboards in neighborhood cafes, the chalk lettering of Brooklyn-based designer Dana Tanamachi recalls the lost art of early 20th century storefront sign painters with their mix of outline and script letters, decorative flourishes, and subtle shading.

Tanamachi happened into custom chalk lettering somewhat accidentally when she picked up a piece of chalk at a friend’s party and began drawing letters on her chalk wall. She had previously designed Broadway show posters at Spotco and worked at Louise Fili, Ltd., specializing in the design of restaurants and food packaging. Now Tanamachi is a full-time custom chalk letterer, with commissions from clients ranging from Rugby Ralph Lauren, Google and West Elm to Harper Collins UK. Tanamachi’s chalk letters evoke a sense of Old World craftsmanship and a gentler time when images were completely drawn by hand and not aided by “mouse-clicks” on a Mac.

One in five Americans suffers from dyslexia, according to the U.S. National Institutes of Health. Essentially that means their brains do not process or recognize certain letterforms and symbols. When looking at words, dyslexics tend to rotate, swap, twist, mirror and flop certain characters, making it difficult to comprehend what they are reading. The word “saw” may be read as “was,” for example.

It doesn’t matter how beautiful a typeface is; dyslexics still find them hard to read. In fact, probably the most elegantly fine typefaces are the toughest to make out.

In the Netherlands, graphic designer and an admitted dyslexic, Christian Boer, decided enough was enough and began to design a font for those with this learning disability. He began his work as a graduate project in 2008 while studying at the University of Twente. The result was a font he called Dyslexie. An independent study conducted by a fellow student showed that dyslexics found it much easier to read text in the Dyslexie font. One graphic device that Boer integrated into the typeface was to exaggerate the length of ascenders and descenders so they would be easier to distinguish. He enlarged the opening of “C” and “A” to eliminate confusion. He weighted the base of the letter so the readers’ brain wouldn’t flip it upside down. He also made bolder punctuation marks and provided more space between letters and words to allow the text to be read at a more even pace.

Dylexie isn’t a panacea for dyslexia but it is being lauded by dyslexics who have tried it. The font is now available in English characters online. A major drawback, however, is convincing designers to use it. Perhaps it could be offered as a translation option, the way text in foreign languages can be instantly – albeit crudely – translated so you can get the gist of what is being said.

Some typefaces aren’t meant for everyday use. They often aren’t readable as running text or even for headlines. Most will never be licensed for public use nor are they commercially available. But they set the mood, add their own graphic interest, and tell their own slice of the story. That is the case with several of the typefaces featured in the 365 Typographic Calendar for 2012.

Take Girder, for example. Asked to create the identity for the 75th anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge next year, Kit submitted an alphabet as part of his presentation. The alphabet took its inspiration from the riveted girders that formed the unpinning of the bridge. The immediate association with San Francisco’s most famous landmark offered a visual linking device in the visitors’ gift shop, and made a distinctive image for all kinds of tourist souvenirs, from key chains to coffee mugs.

Fine artist Ward Schumaker came up with the whimsical hand-lettered typeface that he calls Gertrude-and-Alice when he was working on illustrations for his book on Gertrude Stein “Paris France.” In keeping with his artistic style, he combined brushed letters and hand-cut paper characters. Schumaker says that he imagined that the heavy brush strokes represented the large and ebullient Gertrude Stein, while the delicate hand-cut paper pieces represented the thin and prickly Alice B. Toklas.

For a series of posters for the Golden Gate National Parks Association, graphic artist Michael Schwab recalled the rough-hewn wayfinding signs found in wilderness areas. Routed into wood, probably by a helpful forest ranger, the signs were invariably in all-cap letters and spaced without kerning. The simple lettering perfectly suited Schwab’s graphic style of black silhouettes and bold, flat colors. Adopted as the official typeface for Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Schwab’s hand-drawn letters have become iconic in themselves.

These vernacular typefaces, along with nine other quirky fonts, are featured in the Studio Hinrichs 365 Typography Calendar for 2012.

Manchester-based Music has rebranded Chester Zoo in Chester County, England, by creating a Crayon-colored typeface and logotype that look like they were drawn and embellished by a child — or a clever chimpanzee.

Playful, uninhibited and gleeful, the letterforms, created in collaboration with illustrator Adam Hayes, look like they were done in the wild with crude implements, away from digital devices that would edit out quirks and enforce uniformity. Free-wheeling details spring out of letterforms suggesting that these characters exist outside of captivity. As individually distinct as the letters are, collectively they make up a cohesive font available in four weights and upper and lower case. If animals had opposable thumbs and were able to hold a crayon to create their own font, this is probably how they would describe the Chester Zoo environment — relaxed, happy and free to be who they are.

“Enough with the typography already!” My complaint to Kit is that every other story he wants to post in @Issue has to do with type. So, I’m writing this somewhat under duress.

“Humor me,” Kit says.

But the truth is that perhaps more than any time in history, the average person on the street is acutely aware of the differences in typefaces. Thanks to the computer, we can pick the digital font that suits our mood and voice. As a culture, we have become type snobs, sneering at Comic Sans, forming snap opinions about people who make Arial their default font, arguing over whether Helvetica is deserving of its popularity, and ridiculing some faces as “so last century.”

Graphic designers especially revel in the freedom to pick from hundreds of fonts. They can just click on a pull-down menu or manipulate or design their own face. And since designers are now their own typesetters, they are intimately familiar with how different type styles affect the nuances of letter spacing. More than ever, designers understand the emotional power of the right typeface, the cultural history of “wedding invitation” script or Century Schoolbook, and their bias toward some becomes a signature of their style. This somewhat explains why Just My Type: A Book About Fonts by Simon Garfield has become a runaway top seller. The book is a fun read, making the history, aesthetics, science and philosophy of type accessible and fascinating.

This promo video for the book was produced by Pentagram.

Doyald Young, a lettering teacher of mine and mentor to generations of designers died recently at 85. Lynda.com prepared a tribute to him in a most fitting way. Letters and Logos.