CONTRAST

C O N T R A S T

“You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. But no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there, your eye will no longer trace constellations. You’ll care only about darkness and you’ll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you’re some kind of indispensable universe apointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay.”

For those who believe.

thE sound of sIlEncEthE lIght In humanItY

thE words of wIsdowthE fEar of darknEss

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C O N T R A S T

We talk too muchWe talk in circlesTill we’re all spinning roundReaching for rings on this merry-go-round.

The scenery spinsWe call it progressBut I’ve seen this all beforeWhen all’s said and done,we’ll wake up on the floor.

We set sail with no fixed star in sight.We drive by braille and candlelight.

We’re building towers with no foundations,

Just stacking stone on stoneWhatever it takes - mix our mortar with bones.

But true progress means matching the world to

The vision in our headsBut we always change

the vision instead.

We set sail with no fixed star in sight.

We drive by braille and candlelight.

creatures from sky.

Mean radius 1,737.10 km (0.273 Earths)Equatorial radius 1,738.14 km (0.273 Earths)Polar radius 1,735.97 km (0.273 Earths)Flattening 0.00125Circumference 10,921 km (equatorial)Surface area 3.793 × 107 km2 (0.074 Earths)Volume 2.1958 × 1010 km3 (0.020 Earths)Mass 7.3477 × 1022 kg (0.0123 Earths)Composition Ar, He, Na, K, H, Rn

I am a nomad, a wandererI have nowhere to lay my head downThere’s no point in putting roots too deep when I’m moving onNot settling for this unsettling town

My heart is filled with songs of foreverThe city that endures when all is made newI know I don’t belong here, I’ll neverCall this place my home, I’m just passing through

I am a pilgrim, a voyagerI won’t rest until my lips touch the shoreOf the land that I’ve been longing for as long as I’ve livedWhere they’ll be no penalties anymore

But of all our iniquities ignorance may be the worst.

We are saints made of plaster our laughter is cannedWe are demons that hide in the mirror.But the blood on our hands paints a picture exceedingly clear.

We are brimming with cumbersomemurderous greedAnd malevolence deep and profound.We do unspeakable deeds, does our wickedness know any bounds?

Something’s gone terribly wrong with everyoneAll the world is mad.Darkness brings terrible things the sun is gone- What vanity! Our sad, wretched fires.

We can’t medicate man to perfection again;We can’t legislate peace in our hearts.We can’t educate sin from our souls, it’s been there from the start.

But the blind lead the blind into bottomless pitsStill we smile and deny that we’re cursed.But of all our iniquities ignorance may be the worst.

Your body is a bridge across an endless sea.

We can’t educate sin from our souls, it’s been there from the start.

Clay in the Potter’s hand

Perfect typography is a science rather than an art. a thorough grasp of the craft is indispensable but it is not all, for the sound taste which distinguishes the perfect is based on a clear knowledge of the laws of harmonious form. It is true that it springs, as a rule, even though only in part, from an original feeling, but feelings are of little worth as long as they cannot be expressed as reasoned opinions: they have to be changed into knowledge about the consequences of decisions on artis-tic construction. there are, therefore, no born masters of typography: only by gradual training can such a status be reached. It is not true that we can argue about taste, if it is good taste that we mean. But just as we do not bring understanding of art into the world, so we are not born with taste, for to recognize who or what is represented in a painting has as little to do with comprehension of art as has the judgment of the uninitiated on the proportions of width in roman letter forms. all such discussions are meaningless, because he who tries to convince has first to produce something better than his opponents.

good taste, like perfect typography, is super-personal. In a typo-graphic masterpiece the so-called handwriting of the artist has been extinguished. today good taste is often incorrectly dismissed as out of date. the man in the street in his search for an affirmation of what he considers his personality, prefers some unusual form to any objective standard of taste. what is praised as personal style even in typogra-phy is nothing but some unimportant, vain, even detrimental idiosyn-crasy which often passes for novelty: for instance, the exclusive use of a certain type, it may be either san serif or curious printing types of the nineteenth or even our own century: predilection for certain type combinations: the application of seemingly courageous rules: the use of only one type size for the whole work, even a complicated one, or other mannerisms. Personal typography is a defective typography. only fools can demand it. Perfect typography is based on harmony in all the parts. we have to learn and to teach what is harmonious. harmony is dependent, for instance, on good proportions between the four margins of a book page: on the proportions of the leading in relation to the size of the margins: on the distance of the folio from the type area: on the degree of letter spacing in capital letter headings which should be in suitable proportion to the leading of the ordinary text, and last but not least, on the word spacing; every detail is important. only by training, the most serious self-criticism, and continuous learning, can we train our senses to achieve perfection. most people, unfortunately, are satisfied with mediocre results. careful word spacing and exact letter spacing of capitals (in accordance with the optical value of the letter spac-es) are still known only to a very small number of hand compositors. the rules for correct letter spacing are usually well taught, but all too frequently they are not followed. as typography is addressed to everybody, it does not allow of revo-lutionary alterations. we may not alter the essential form of one single

letter without destroying the written appearance of our language and at the same time making it less readable. comfortable readability is the paramount rule of all typography; but judgment on this mat-ter can only be pronounced by one who is really trained in reading. not everyone who can read a primer or even an average newspa-per is competent to judge; for both the texts are merely decipherable. decipherability and ideal readability are contrasted. good readability depends on the right choice of type and on a manner of composition suitable to it. a perfect knowledge of the history of printing types is an indispensable precondition of perfect typography. still more pre-cious is a practical knowledge of calligraphy. the typography of most newspapers is still in the cradle. their formlessness destroys every attempt to promote good taste and pre-vents its cultivation. many people, because they are too lazy to think, read more newspapers than books; therefore it is no wonder that typography in general—books not excepted—is so little developed. how then is a compositor to have knowledge of good typographic taste if he reads newspapers more than anything else? all possibility of comparison is lacking, and many readers accept poor typography because they do not really read books, but merely, as they themselves very appropriately say, kill their leisure hours with them. they know no better typography and therefore cannot insist on a better. Beginners and dilettanti in typography attribute too much impor-tance to the so-called idea. meanwhile perfect settings grow mainly by the choice between different possibilities, of which the knowledge is the result of extensive experience, and the right choice a matter of tact. good typography cannot be witty. the so-called idea, there-fore, counts for little or nothing. It does not count for the very reason that it is applicable only to a single work. In a good piece of typogra-phy each single part is formally conditioned by every other, and their proportions are developed but slowly as the designer’s work goes on.

good typography today is an eminently logical art and can be judged by its very logic, which even the uninitiated can check, though the laws of aristotelian logic may sometimes be broken by those of the logic of art. the more important the content of the composition and the longer it is to endure, the more careful, balanced and perfect its typography should be, not merely in word spacing and leading, but also in the proportions of the margins, of the type sizes used and in the arrange-ment of the chapter headings, which should appear to be irrevocable. decisions on matters of higher typography, such as in a title page, need a really highly developed taste, related to what is needed in creative art. they may produce forms which are quite as perfect as good painting or sculpture. from the experts they should receive even more respect since the typographer is more strictly bound than any other artist by the unchangeable wording of the material before him. none but a master can call the dead leaden letters to true life. Perfect typography is certainly the most brittle of all arts. out of stiff, unconnected little parts a whole must be shaped which is alive and convincing as a whole. sculpture in stone alone comes near in its brittleness to perfect typography. for most people it offers no special aesthetic charm as it is as difficult of access as the highest music, and in the most favourable cases is merely accepted with gratitude. the knowledge that he is rendering an anonymous service to valuable works, and to a small number of optically sensitive people, is as a rule the only reward for the typographer’s long and never-ending apprenticeship.

by Jan tschichold

If there’s one thing I know in this life we are beggars all.

amanda Brencys carbonatothe Voice of type with sergey sidorovMiami ad school europe

CONTRAST

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