Tropophilia

I’ve had another red bundle of Netflix joy buried in my mail pile for well over a week. So last night as I did some ironing, I popped Helvetica into my MacBook and away I went into the world of typography; a world that I had previously never given two seconds of thought to, but now have come to appreciate as one of the great underrated artistic mediums.

I can’t remember exactly how I first learned about Helvetica. I remember reading brief reviews about the film right when it came out, but I guess I saw it mentioned recently on some blog… or maybe Netflix recommended it to me.

I have to admit that I did get a little bored at times, but that could just as well be due to me sometimes concentrating more on the wrinkles in my shirts than on the images and words in the movie. Even though I was giving it less than 100% of my attention, I can definitely say the film was particularly well made.

The history of Helvetica was fairly intriguing, as was the way in which the filmmakers transitioned from interview to interview with examples of the typeface in everyday life.
It really is amazing how ubiquitous this one font is. Seriously. It’s everywhere. Even our Tropophilia logo above is composed in a variation called “Helvetica Neue UltraLight.”

But what was even more fascinating to me was the way in which the various typographers described their personal attitudes both towards Helvetica and their chosen profession. Some were in love with the font. They praised its perfection, or its simplicity, or its boldness. Others associated it with globalization, with over-standardization, even with the Vietnam War. Others said it was overused and has become dull, while others say that it’s undergoing a revival. Some say it’s timeless, others say its time has come and gone. Who knew all this controversy existed over a font?

Typographers are very passionate people. They care very deeply about something that almost all of us take for granted: the forms of words, and how those forms shape how we perceive, process, and appreciate the content we are consuming. I really liked the way one typographer put it: choosing a typeface for a publication is like choosing an actor for a movie. With almost any typeface, you’re going to be able to follow the content and what it’s trying to convey. But with a really good typeface, you’ll become emotionally involved with the content. With a really bad typeface, it doesn’t matter if the content is good or bad — it’s ruined one way or another.

Of course, there can be different types of “really good.” Maybe “really good” means that the type reflects characteristics of the content — a smooth, modern type for scientific or fantasy content; a formal, serif-laden type for more serious or esoteric content; a curvy, unpredictable type for leisurely or youth-oriented type; etc. This might be like choosing an actor who is very adept at molding his or her appearance, speech, and mannerisms into the context of the script — Clint Eastwood in Westerns, Al Pacino in gangster flicks, etc. Those people just belong in those types of movies; they’re almost stereotypes. “Really good” might also mean that the type is so transparent, so easy to read that it allows the content to become the full focus. This might be like an actor who melts into his character so much that you look beyond them — deep into the story and the conflict of the movie — rather than at the way the actor is portraying his role.

This is a blog about change, so why am I spending time writing about Helvetica? Change was actually a big theme of the film. Typographers invented Helvetica as a reaction to the flourishy, script types that dominated advertising in the 1940s and 1950s. People were tired of the cutesy whitebread message of the era. Consumers, and thus businesses, demanded something clear and bold, and designers met that demand by supplying Helvetica. After a few decades, when a majority of corporations had redesigned their image à la Helvetica and that trend had become the norm, there was another, post-modernist reaction. People didn’t want conformity and boldness, they wanted subtlety and individualism. Who knew that grunge had its own family of fonts?

Typographers in the movie were generally happy with the state of their art. They believe people are waking up to the importance of word design, as well as design in general. Look at the popularity of Apple, for example, which takes pride in making its products functional in both technology and design. Look at Google, whose success is partially due to its minimalist approach to user interfaces. Look at all the Web 2.0 services these days, with their shiny one-word names and polished, reflective logos.

As one of the typographers notes, the tools of design are growing cheaper and easier to use. Photoshop and GarageBand are in widespread amateur use. High-end still and motion cameras are getting cheaper and cheaper. Even sites like MySpace give people as young as 12 and 13 a new way to express themselves by letting them choos color schemes, photos, and music to greet visitors to their profiles. People are expressing themselves artistically more than ever, and making us aware of how some of the things we most take for granted are actually the most important — and difficult — to design.

So if you’ve made it this far, tell me: do you have a font you really love? One you really hate? Do you use certain fonts for certain projects? For me, my favorites are Verdana (apparently pronounced Ver-DAH-na, not Ver-DAY-na), Garamond, Helvetica, and Arial (which I learned is a cheap knock-off of Helvetica, thus making me like it a little less). I don’t reserve certain fonts for certain projects; I just scroll through the list until I find one that fits. I think my CV is in Garamond because it’s a little more formal looking. I don’t know what font these posts are published in; anyone recognize it? Anyway, spill your guts in the comments.

And for those who made it here to the very end, here’s a link to a post on the Helvetica blog about the font chosen by the Obama campaign called “Gotham.”