The good, the bad and the ugly (typeface)
MANILA, Philippines - You’re a Didot. It suits you more.”
My brilliant photographer friend (www.pauljung.co.uk) suggested a letterpress notecard font for me — someone who does not even subscribe to the old-fashioned ritual of handing out business cards. Tempted to move up from multi-color Post-Its attached to small “thank you” gifts, I kind of was in a dilemma between my oldtime favourite Bodoni (I am not always a classical guy) or ITC Avant Garde (but I don’t see it resonating in the now).
What is it about typefaces that make us dread Comic Sans or alternately feel at place with Comic Sans going on a banal everyday lunch leaflet from a countryside kiosk, on a budget?
Fonts (what any word processor or any layman refers to) have offered us the gift to express ourselves for more than decades. Choosing the right typeface is just as important as dressing accordingly for an occasion. Fonts typically carry the message you wish to communicate. And on rare occasions they are neutral — and the content of the text is more crucial.
For the typographically-aware, Comic Sans can be a comedic caption for parody Tumblr sites. For some, it’s a no-fuss ubiquitous choice like Arial — a second-rate Helvetica which comes as the default with many softwares. If you find it used on a link in Craigslist, you may have reason to be wary — it can be a magnet for ugly offers with an all-Arial interface.
Good ol’ Helvetica has always been the keeper of neutrality. It is just okay — it seems like air walking around the city filled with road signs, from government forms, to corporate identities. It’s safe, it is official, it’s efficient, and it can be dull and boring and cliché.
“Do not read me. I will bore you to death.” That’s what Helvetica says to popular typographer and graphic designer Stefan Sagmeister if handed a brochure or leaflet with bearing the font, as standard as a predictable image from an imagebank service from Corbis.
Helvetica had its heyday beginning in the ‘60s when the high priestess of graphic design, Massimo Vignelli created Unimark (with a pretext uniform mark) and has endorsed it to become refreshing antidote to all the antiquey, swishy, scripted “heritage” logos, or identities with imposing weight as if it came along a chugging steam caravan train. As if you had to reply with a stylus and scroll, all ready to be airlifted by an owl. Medieval and with the burden of the past, Helvetica came as a cool solution filled with democracy and streamlined order.
The law of diminishing returns always expresses that the more things remain the same, the more they are subject to conformity. Helvetica still works, though — maybe little corny or expected but, yes, legitimate.
One low-brow night, driving along a row of independent restaurants along Paranaque, my fellow font-obsessive and graphic designer friend Patricia Lopa-Silva got fired up over Crispiritos. As if it was spewed from a fireball from outer space, the blazing, flaming deep-fried street chicken on the signage was striking. It was legible and clear. And kitschy above anything else. But it had a sense of humor (or at least we imagine the owners to have such). It was humble and what you would expect from improvised signage all subscribing to convenience, and maybe with just a few improvements, it could be a chain if it wanted to. It has the same resonance of Berliner streetfood currywurst. Where even the lowest of fast-food — aware it is crap — is easily accessible and, for some, “comfort” food. But currywurst has become a cultural symbol of cheap, grunge-y, post-alcohol fix; something that says "winter, clubland Berlin."
It’s so clear how pervasive (or subliminal) expressing oneself is magnified through the social media formats one chooses that sometimes is better to be covert than be overt. With all the liberty of self-actualization or being unique — the level of freedom and transparency (buzzwords for Helvetica subscribers), complexity (searching for limitless ways to let fonts perform beyond what is a simple layout) also has the risk of unreadability, at the cost of a unique style advantage. Not to mention inconsistent. It is far from humanistic, but really, the same visual peril of an “army” of standard Helvetica feels like now.
But yes, just like responsible use of Comic Sans or cheeky fireball call-outs — it’s still valid for where it is used.