Wes Anderson is probably my favorite director, and certainly my favorite film stylist. We all love him here at the ‘Agree; Jessica’s handprinted Max Fischer extracurricular activities pencils are probably proof enough. We’re very very very excited about his new movie Moonrise Kingdom.
Typographically, he’s been very consistently an all-caps-Futura man. While he outlined it for The Life Aquatic, Bollywood half-opened something not-quite-Futura for The Darjeeling Limited and emboldened and threw it on a curve for Fantastic Mr. Fox, he’s established an iconic typographic style that is very recognizable. That said, I’m not at all sad that he hired the fabulous Jessica Hische to make a custom script for this one! It fits in with his aesthetic perfectly, and grants the coming of age story a wistfulness that the cold caps of Futura wouldn’t.
*Note that all-caps Futura does make an appearance at least thrice in the trailer, notably on the awesome mimeographed-handwriting-practice-paper letterhead.
Stupid type joke: T-Mobile uses VAG in pink, AT&T uses Omnes in orange (which they took on after consuming Cingular). If the former absorbs the latter their rebrand is going to look like Dunkin’ Donuts. Ha. Anyway. Ahem.
We’re in the age of the rounded sans. Why, ten years ago, Helvetica rounded and VAG were about all there was. Now not only do we have a plethora of new loveliness like Omnes, Sauna, Bryant, Estilo, Brevia and ooh look at Mija wouldya — we’re also seeing new releases of rounded versions of classics and recent favorites like FF Unit, Gotham, Museo, Din, AG Book, and Proxima Nova.
What happened that animated gifs disappeared for years and now are coming back so dang cool? Check these animations for Russian bookstore (slash bikestore?) Respublica. Great modernist layouts with awesome motion graphics: some favorites below, and see all of em (and a reel with transitions between) on Pavel Paratov’s Behance page!
Last weekend we saw the new Mike Mills film Beginners. Afterward I said it was my favorite movie of the new decade, and I have yet to take that back. Its got incredible heart, innovative pacing, a fantastic script, and an admirable sense of authenticity. But enough about the film. Do we look like a movie review blog? Just go see it: let’s talk type.
Beginners with its beautifully awkward brushy cursive (shades of Interview masthead and Quiksilver logo but far more humble/charming than both) belongs squarely to the last grouping I mentioned in my analysis of handwriting-on-movie-poster trending — that is, it is typecast with the painfully earnest Freaks and Geeks, Beautiful Losers (which he’s featured in along with handletterer Geoff McFettridge) and Where the Wild Things Are (by fellow Beastie Boys collaborator Spike Jonze and fellow enthusiast for the authentic Dave Eggers). His previous feature film Thumbsucker also falls into this category, as does Me You and Everyone We Know(the first feature film of his wife, artist Miranda July). Indeed, though not movies, so does her book of stories or his great series of products, “Humans.” These are all linked by a raw earnestness signalled by their use of handlettering.
So, wait. I know handwriting and that… some of that is not handwriting, it’s Helvetica. The more I look at Mike Mills’ work (of art rather than design for clients) the more it seems he has two modes: handwriting and Helvetica. And I’m generally not a fan of the font without qualities, but with his content in it, I’m a bit in love. Words from the heart makes sense in scrawled lettering, but it’s a bit obvious. Text about the human experience, or sadness, in the typeface of generics and megacorps is sort of beautiful.
For much more Mike Mills, visit his site. I recommend watching his short film Deformer — though the preview on his site is only a minute of its 17-min run time. If you live by me, I’ll lend you the issue of the Believer it’s in.
3. Speaking of Canada, Spanish video production outfit CANADA produces fantastic videos with an aesthetic which is retro, kitschy, erotic and unsettling. Perhaps better examples of their peculiar style are found in their Scissor Sisters, Battles, or Vaccines videos — all of which are great — but here’s one that’s safe-for-work, which channels both 60s live-music acts and Michelle Gondry.
4. And, Best Coast has a video that merges creepy and cutesy beautifully, with slow-motion that brings us back to the first.
I love this video all the more because it reminds me of near-forgotten video I saw just once in the early 90s, a black and white, seemingly one-take video of firing squad executions in the desert — panning between the condemned stage right, the shooters stage left and the deadpan lovesong singer center foreground… Google and Bing have failed me. Anyone?
Recently I’ve been really interested in Generative Art — in how amazing and aesthetic things can be made out of data and algorithms. I posted about my first deeper look into it (Tim Huchinson, plus my own attempts to use Kandid) over a year ago.
Recently this interest has me looking at Processing. I know very little about programming so how it works is pretty opaque to me, but I’ll tell you this much: it works using data, it works over javascript and thus works on the internet, and some of the works made using it are blowing my mind. Here’s several of em.
An array of garbage bags + fans and Processing, and it’s art that feels more than a bit like life:
Crazily complex “Subdivided Columns” by Michael Hansmeyer, built out of computations from topographical data from a standard Doric column. These are not just conceptual: they actually were output, prototyped as objects, which makes me feel excited about how wildly structured objects and architecture of the near future might be.
And yeah three great music videos made with Processing:
Corrine Vionnet’s series Photo Opportunities is a collection of pieces on iconic landmarks, each one composed of hundreds of self-similar tourist photographs layered together into a new composition.
While the three essays she reproduces on her site focus on the sightseers/tourists and their consistent, shared, unimaginative “shared memory” view of the monuments, I am more interested in the layers of meaning that can be extracted from the finished pieces.
The effect of the dissolution and blur on these icons sometimes works to invoke associations: Big Ben for instance is lost in the fog, while the Twin Towers are lost in grief.
The way that the photos are layered also creates some interesting readings, especially in the ones with very clear focal points where the pictures are registered. The cooperative tourist shots combined do what a single one cannot: make into a beacon the portrait of Mao in the Forbidden City, make a grinding gyre around the black rock at Mecca, or complete the Colliseum. Interestingly, there most photographers choose an angle that shows its damage — the aesthetic normative — and the small group that shoot from another angle fill in ghostily what the eye can only imagine.
And my favorite layer of meaning: some seem to consciously refer to or homage art history. Clearly the whole project is a variant of cubism, assembling different views, but the dynamism referenced in the Golden Gate Bridge composition is apparent: compare to Balla’s Dynamism of Dog on a Leash. Likewise, you can’t assemble hundreds of pictures of Mt. Fuji without referring to Hokusai. Her composition, like his series of prints, seems to show Fujiyama as being a constant, unchanging icon while the days, nights, seasons and crowds change around it. The blurry Eiffel Tower in a series of chromatic greys looks all the world like a piece of lost Impressionism – Caillebotte‘s pallete and Monet’s brush? And the texture at the bottom/foreground of the Matterhorn piece feels remarkably like the scraped brushwork of a late modern painter like Kiefer.
One of the primary instigators of early modern painting was photography’s effortless encroachment into the realist space painting had long occupied. With these recombined works, Vionnet collages cliché photography into something that recapitulates the project of modern painting: expressing different aspects of time, light and viewpoint, abstracting and dissolving its subjects into impressions, thumbing its nose at photography which can only represent realistically a single moment.
I’m really diggin the style of the project “50 and 50″ — where 50 designers are invited to make an illustration of their state’s motto. The colorscheme (a sophisticated red white and blue) and format is consistent, and curator Dan Cassaro has a sort of modern-Americana vernacular + workhorse Futura-y look for the site which works great with the selected (typographically skilled) contributors. It’s good to see this style done well by more folks than just Draplin — though looks like he’ll be doing Oregon.
North Carolina by Matt Stevens — I’d have bought a print of this one if that had been an option; as it wasn’t I figured the next thing was to blog it. Please guys, prints? Or t-shirts? Tennessee by Matt Lehman. Massachussets by Mark Weaver.
I am a sucker for off-register process color, but a limited edition book printed one color at a time on this chain of obsolete printing technologies? Full of pictures of the changing technologies of mass printing? Oh yes please. From London-based designer Xavier Antin.
A book printed through a printing chain made of four desktop printers using four different colors and technologies dated from 1880 to 1976. A production process that brings together small scale and large scale production, two sides of the same history.
Also available from Antin: Printing at Home, a book of recipes for hacking old inkjets to make, for instance, the brushjet printer, acid printer and potato wheel printer (shown)
