Typography means going outside
I don’t mean to be yet another designer who ‘jumps on the bandwagon’ of singing the praises of Alfred Wainwright’s illustrated and hand lettered guides. But these books are difficult to resist – or find an equivalent for, in regards to exploring appropriately designed lettering, maps and illustrations coaxing all of us to go outdoors.
Wainwright’s guides are used in many kinds of well planned and enjoyable walks. Points of visual interest and ‘payoffs’ which might be a great view at the top of a rise or a great spot to take a break for lunch are key to his methodical formatting. Aesthetically, anyone can enjoy elements of these guides without doing the walks; but what’s evident is that these wouldn’t be as vivid without their direct experience – for the reader or Wainwright as the designer/author. Colour isn’t needed – it’s in the mind’s eye, and seeing it in person, whatever the greyness or blueness of the sky, is agreeable within this mindset of being well informed. As Wainwright put it, ‘There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.’
But consider this: how many signage and typographic projects are done completely ‘blind’? In other words, the designer of a signage system or publication may not be practically able to visit the locations mentioned – or, if it is signage, see the site where their work will be displayed. I’m starting to believe that many graphic problems – apart from those which must be done rapidly – beg for some sort of ‘outside’ or physical view. The drawing of Gerard Unger’s typeface Swift is explained (in his book, While You’re Reading) to be partly based on an abstract interpretation of the flight of this bird and largely inspired by the work of W A Dwiggins. Some may find the first part of this description to be ‘quaint’, others may judge it to be more credible than this.
Perhaps these are more personal realisations than those which are commonly mulled over. It’s not uncommon, though, for designers to spend weeks and months without visually significant contact with the outdoors (excluding transport walks to work, riding a bike, waking in common areas and ‘small’ green spaces, to stores, events, etc). There seem to be be very few directly related opportunities to be like Wainwright in the potential to develop a personal language specific to any ‘walking experience’. Of course, his books were all about being outdoors, and many of the subjects and messages designers must interpret don’t have much (or anything) to do with this. But I’m beginning to suspect this kind of indoor/outdoor balance, in choosing to ‘bring in’ a more vivid interpretation of a relevant physical setting, is helpful.
Clues about this are found in casual conversations: describing what works as ‘a breath of fresh air’ or the need to ‘take a walk to clear your head’ or ‘see it from another perspective’. Oddly, I don’t think this process of ‘walking to consider’ clears the mind as much as it fills it with what’s more vibrant, visually focused and re-sorted. It’s difficult to be certain about this; practical concerns means this may be an attempt to borrow, imitate or steal from outside beauty to use it for paler digital translations. Maybe – maybe not.
Lettering and type can be either rude and clumsy interruptions to naturally reasoned logics or they can be, in some respects, somewhat closer to Wainwright’s guides: appropriately tailored to ‘fit’ without much fuss. The details that are needed are there, nothing else. These books are a true companion to visual experience – they work because they don’t attempt to replace it or interpret it for you. As Wainwright saw it, it would be silly not to include warnings of rock slides, steep grades or detours. And, it’s comforting to know this man did all these walks to know what he’d want to see most in a guide.
Alfred Wainwright is understandably a graphic design legend – simply because his formal constructs in use, as lettering, illustrations, maps and diagrams, very much suited an enjoyable purpose.
< Wainwright photographed by the Guardian newspaper shortly before his death in 1991. An article proposing a public memorial to this publicity-shy author, letterer and illustrator is posted here.
