Typography: my work

In this workshop, we were introduced to the Adobe InDesign app, taught several basic functions within the app, completing various exercises to put these to practice, and then finally asked to create several typographical representations of a word given to us from a hat.

I found this brief especially interesting to read and so think I would like to explore typography in greater depth.

We were instructed to use Helvetica as a neutral font type, and asked to choose a letter to experiment with. I chose a capital R as I thought it had an interesting variety of form to play round with (straight, curved and wiggly).

First we experimented with duplicating and transforming the letter in dimension and orientation. Then too with opacity and layering. What’s interesting here (which I have only just noticed) is that unintentionally I arranged the page in the shape of the R I was using..!

Then, we experimented with colour fills, as well as gradients, and outlines with varying thickness and pattern.

Here, by masking certain elements of the letter by drawing a shape over it, we experimented with deconstructing the letters and marrying them to create new letters or abstractions. I enjoyed this especially, and testing how far the letter could be pushed and still recognised.

I was given the word ‘error’ to portray through type. This word for me has connotations of machinery and computing, as it’s synonymous with ‘error messaging’ in applications and computer systems. As such I knew I wanted my typograms to play on this.

I began by writing this as one word, and sought to experiment with one of the outlining functions which makes the edges angular/squared – to increase it’s artificiality. I arbitrarily drastically increased the size of this outline and it created an unforeseen interesting result, whereby it was obliterating the word itself. I liked the effect it gives, a bit like someone has viciously markered a piece of paper. Over the top of this, I included a small ‘error’ in a typeface that evokes typewriter or mechanical writing as a footnote of sorts. I chose a contrasting yellow to have this stand out, but also give a sense of alarm. Interestingly, when printed the strength of the black ink behind this yellow note means the type is almost imperceptible.

For my next page, I wanted to experiment instead with each letter in isolation. I chose to continue with the yellow/black palette for this piece as well. I knew I wanted to mix up the sizing, typeface and capitalisation of the letters to disrupt the reading of the word. I deconstructed my capital E which I find interesting since it remains identifiable despite the middle and bottom horizontal lines being disjointed.

The fact I had three rs in my word was interesting, since I had been working with this earlier. I chose to still have one capital R here but I enjoyed exploring the lower case r in this instance – particularly when duplicating and varying the opacity and making this overlap. This reminded me of an error that used to happen with Windows OS and that was featured in the opening credits of the IT Crowd tv show (which again reinforced this connotation of error).

For the O, I wanted to again play with the outlining feature, and again using an oversized one, I achieved an interesting effect which effectively multiplied the letter itself. By scaling this up and tilting it I realised it looked a little like the iconic Vertigo poster, and I liked the additional meaning this could convey, alongside the repeating r, of you falling into an endless error. I backgrounded this to highlight that sense of falling into it. [Here again, the vortex is appearing as a motif!]

I further subverted this work by ‘accidentally’ leaving one of the InDesign function windows on top of the design and screengrabbing it to create a further page – in a postmodern sort of way.

I also enjoyed seeing this message at the bottom of the application window and thought it could in itself ironically imply a paradox of both being and not being an error.

I enjoyed this 1/2 day workshop greatly, and would like to work to extend it as suggested at the end of the brief.

Personal Cartography: Peer Critique

My initial thoughts on receiving the brief were to use data to map the desire lines on campus, or to map my interactions with the geography of Oxford Brookes in my first week, as a record of spatial navigation.

I liked these ideas as a way of joining up a map of the space itself with human intentions and behaviour, and how the two inform each other. So how our behaviours shape the spaces around us (e.g. the paths created across green spaces where people walking through have worn away the grass) and how the spaces themselves impact our behaviour (e.g. the positioning of doors impacting the way we cross a large open space). However I felt this might be a more interesting investigation once there were more bodies to observe, and I had more time to do this observation (i.e. once term had gotten underway for the majority). I also did not feel it necessarily fit in with another element I was interested to explore – how I am discovering a new place and so in the process of creating my interactions.

I was therefore interested to see some peers producing maps that played on these themes, and to observe what did/didn’t work in their executions here.

A map showing the routes taken in 1st week on campus at Oxford Brookes: Unknown FAD student

The use of a birdseye view here (a convention in maps) serves to produce a highly simplified view of the campus lay out, with the mostly straight, angled buildings juxtaposing with the more fluid movement of the student. I like the use of stitched thread here as this implies for me that they are making their mark in this space and the movement across that space (i.e. one stitch at a time).

However, it seems as though the travel is only ever across the space, in and out. This implies that it is a transitory relationship at this time, which may or may not have been the intention. There is also only red and black thread used, and no key for what these might symbolise, nor labels for the buildings or indication of any activity that might have happened through the course of the day. The piece itself is decentralised on the page, and the paper is folded and scrumpled, suggesting that it is unfinished.

This map has similarly used thread to indicate routes across the map, though here the subject is broader than the campus alone. Similar to a bus route map, we here see different way points/landmarks along each route that might symbolise a place in which they stopped along the way, e.g. aldi being one that 3 routes convene on. There is also a paper cutout of ‘me’ that can be slide along the threads to indicate their progress through the map – an adjustable ‘You are Here’ marker, which is a clever device.

The map itself has been mounted on cardboard, to allow for the pins to be fixed in place, but has been cut to an unusual shape which defies the convention of maps as there is no clear geographic reason for the shape of this ‘island’ of sorts. Here too we do not have a key though the threads are in different colours, but there is description of the points marked out. X marks the spot though we know not to what (a convention from Treasure Island) – and this stands out as somewhat not in keeping with the rest of the map as a reference to something not otherwise explored.

I think what I might take from these works would be that a use of thread can help to delineate routes from the maps themselves, though colour keys would be useful. Also too that use of stitching might help to communicate speed/time passing which could be useful if cataloguing multiple agents across a space. Though I think care is needed to understand what is wanting to be communicated vs the level of detail and explanation required to effectively do so.