Design

With its tattered and sad looking manila envelope marked only by a hastily written exhibition description, this exhibition catalogue has a very unassuming appearance in the context of an entire shelf of fine, hardbound art catalogues.

Expecting to open the envelope to find a fits-in-your-palm-sized catalogue, I was instead delighted to find the unexpected: 138 unbound index cards representing one of the most important avant garde art exhibitions of its time, titled 955,000. Taking place at the Vancouver Art Gallery from January 13 to February 8, 1970, this exhibition—containing conceptual art, process art and land art—was organized by Lucy R. Lippard.

Prior to the 955,000 exhibition (the number 955,000 was derived from the approximate population of Vancouver in 1970), Lippard curated and organized 557,087 (the approximate population of Seattle in 1969) for the Contemporary Art Council of the Seattle Art Museum at the Seattle Art Museum Pavilion from September 5 to October 5, 1969. This catalogue originated with the 557,087 exhibition in Seattle, consisting of 95 10cm x 15cm index cards, and in light of its continuation into the 955,000 exhibition in Vancouver, 42 new index cards were added to the collection.

Despite its unbound, randomly ordered and aesthetically uniform (hand and typewritten text printed in black on index cards) characteristics, this catalogue is peculiar because each artist in the exhibition was not only asked to contribute their artwork but they were also encouraged to make/design their own index card(s) for the catalogue. In theory this publication still functions, despite these abnormalities, as an exhibition catalogue because it represents the artists and their ideas. And while it’s not a rarity for an artist to make and submit his or her own text, image or artwork for a catalogue, it does seem rare that their contributions would not be collected and placed into the context of a book page.

Although this catalogue is far from revolutionary in terms of materials and format, I was simply drawn to the concept it presents because it completely surpasses the need for a designer and the processes so inherently paired with designing art-related catalogues (such as developing typographic systems and grids, sequencing, pacing, templating and even the process of preparing images and illustrations for high-end reproduction).

In essence, it could be argued that this catalogue (and the model it represents) comes closer to communicating the ideas of each artist and their raw proposals and is more authentic than traditional art catalogues that tend to remove or filter out certain nuances by way of such restrictions as page sizes and counts, the process of editing available content and even designer preference. And regardless of the fact that this catalogue is void of the parts and systems that many of us enjoy and expect from more traditional approaches, it reveals itself in an equally as intriguing way as catalogues that are defined by comprehensive and thoughtful orderliness.

According to The Centre for Contemporary Canadian Art (www.ccca.ca):

“ The catalog consists of… index cards in random order including [101] cards compiled by the artists themselves, [21] text cards by [Lucy R. Lippard], [3] title page cards, 1 acknowledgements card, 2 lists of the council members and officers, 1 forward by the council president, [2] list of artists, [5] selective bibliographies, 1 list of films shown, [and] 1 addenda to [the] artists.”

There were 71 artists from North America and Europe participating in 955,000:

Vito Acconci, Carl Andre, Keith Arnatt, Richard Artschwager, Terry Atkinson, John Baldessari, Michael Baldwin, Robert Barry, Rick Barthelme, Gene Beery, Mel Bochner, Bill Bollinger, Jon Borofsky, Daniel Buren, Donald Burgy, Rosemarie Castoro, Greg Curnoe, Hanne Darboven, Walter de Maria, Jan Dibbets, Christos Dikeakos, Rafael Ferrer, Dan Graham, Hans Haacke, Alex Hay, Michael Heizer, Eva Hesse, Douglas Huebler, Robert Huot, Stephen Kaltenbach, On Kawara, Edward Kienholz, Robert Kinmont, Joseph Kosuth, Christine Kozlov, John Latham, Barry Le Va, Sol LeWitt, Roelof Louw, Duane Lundon, Bruce McLean, Robert Morris, N. Y. Graphic Workshop, N.E. Thing Co., Bruce Nauman, George Nikoliadis, Dennis Oppenheim, John Perreault, Adrian Piper, Robert Rohm, Alan Ruppersberg, Ed Ruscha, Robert Ryman, Fred Sandback, George Sawchuk, Richard Serra, Randy Sims, Richard Sladden, Robert Smithson, Keith Sonnier, Jeff Wall, Lawrence Weiner and Ian Wilson

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The 1999 Design Insights Lecture Series poster for the Walker Art Center (co-presented by AIGA Minnesota) is simply the most thorough and exhaustively produced poster I have seen in my day. Thus the poster is a deserving addition to our Flat Files collection.

With the informational side of the poster designed by Daniel Eatock and Andrew Blauvelt and its opposite side including an intensive drawing by Conny Purtill, this poster appears to have required the full attention and the contributions of the entire Walker design and editorial staffs. With such a well-crafted and carefully considered poster as proof, their efforts are hard not to appreciate.

Intended to act as a regional and informational “guide” for the out-of-town lecturers, the shear information overload (which could be considered a theme of Eatock’s work) of the poster references the overwhelming nature of traveling to a large city and being presented with a disproportionate number of resources about the city. Conny Purtill’s mosaic pencil drawing of an airplane in flight (best viewed from a distance) also compliments the informational side of the poster in regards to the reference of traveling as well as in its obsessive nature, its relation to “making” and in the attention to detail.

The amount of content showcased on this poster is more on par—in terms of the research, structural and editorial work required—with a small book. To give you an idea of the extent and depth to which this poster extends to, here is a sampling of what is included:

– Full lecturer biographies (with footnotes)

– A detailed description of the selection process and the meetings that were held to discuss the lecturers

– A short history of the AIGA

– A 21 paragraph description of AIGA’s Standards of Professional Practice

– Information about AIGA memberships, conferences, competitions, initiatives and much more

– The Walker Art Center’s Mission Statement

– A history of the Walker Art Center

– A list a practical information about the Walker (such as information on admission, gallery hours and how to contact the Walker)

– A complete column detailing the types of Walker memberships available

– An comprehensive collection of regional information including travel information, parking, airport, taxi and bus information, information about weather conditions and safe winter driving, as well as a listing of hotel accommodations, restaurants and clubs

– A description of the Walker Auditorium, its rules and an inventory of each lecturers audio-visual technical needs

– A column of 27 informative footnotes

– A glossary containing 15 entries from sources including the Oxford Encyclopedic English Dictionary and Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary

– A large listing event and design credits as well as a printer credit which specifies the press used, the paper size, the inks used, the folded size, the folding machine used and the number of posters printed.

(more…)

In light of the Typewriter Typefaces post back in March, a co-worker of ours was kind enough to bring in a Royal typewriter to the Walker studio. Everyone had fun punching away at the keys and writing some very profound statements.

Inevitably, the fun and experimentation led me to what you see below: typewriter-made spin-offs of the Walker Expanded identity “strips”. They’re a little rough around the edges, but completely acceptable as the newest addition to the Walker Expanded identity system (jk!). —

Environmental and elemental art — large-scale and sky art — kinetic and technological art — random happenings and programmed events — multimedia and light shows: ZERO 1, 2, 3 documents the birth, more than ten years ago, of these new tendencies in international art. It collects in one volume the three publications created by the artists’ collaborative, Group Zero, between 1958 and 1961.

Group Zero originated in Dsseldorf, Germany, but quickly became a pan-European force, with mutual exchanges and interacting influences linking an array of artists in Dsseldorf, Paris, Milan, Amsterdam, and elsewhere. This is best indicated by listing some of the artists whose words are displayed and works are illustrated in the book: besides Piene and Mack, they include Fontana, Yves Klein, Mavignier, Jean Tinguely, Arman, Pol Bury, Spoerri, Manzoni, Dorazio, Sota, Manfred Kage, and many others.

— Opening cover blurb from ZERO 1, 2, 3 (published by MIT Press in 1973)

fig.1 fig. 2 fig. 3

fig. 4fig. 5 fig. 6

This book initially caught my attention because of its stark cover (fig. 1). The severity of its simplicity and conciseness reminds me of a typographic course exercise in which hierarchy and proximity are closely considered. The inner contents of the book are less precise structurally, but more on point with the diverse selection of artists involved with ZERO 1, 2, 3 and the “dynamic filmlike sequences” their artwork creates upon the pages of the book.

While I’m no expert on group art catalogues as such, ZERO 1, 2, 3 seems to evade the monotonous structure and sequencing I see so often in other catalogues, annuals, biennials, etc. from this time period.

Some of the most mysterious anomalies of this book lie within a section featuring the work of Yves Klein in which the torn and burnt pages (fig. 4–5) are hard to miss. The strange thing about these pages is that it’s evident that the destruction was not an accident. While, to some extent, the writing on these altered pages (and adjacent pages) offer clues as to why the pages are presented as they are. For example, on the page preceding the burnt page, a sentence reads: “Fire is there too, and I must have its mark!” or “…one must be like untamed fire.” Similarly, on the page following the torn page, the opening sentence reads “…Leave my mark on the world, I have done it!” [*]

Lastly, and perhaps with some relation to the burnt page mentioned above, is a surprising set of instructions outlined on the last page of the book—“directions for use: pyromaniac instructions”—in which the reader is encouraged, through a six-step process, to burn the publication with the supplied book of matches. Unfortunately, the book of matches were only included with the original edition of the ZERO 3 publication.

fig. 7 fig. 8

fig. 9 fig. 10

NOTES:

* Further explanation of Klein’s torn and burnt pages is offered by Lawrence Alloway in an opening essay: “Zero 3 was a major publication, both visually and typographically resourceful. Klein submitted a dummy for it, and although it was not used, one detail concerning his own selection was retained. He wanted the last pages of an article of his to be burned in each copy; that way, he wrote “my text will not have any end…it will stop suddenly.” This distinction between formal completion and an existential act of just stoppping is a topic that the Abstract Expressionists discussed in New York, but Klein is alone, I think, in applying the idea to a verbal text.”

fig. 1: Book cover

fig. 2–3: Opening spreads of the ZERO 2 section

fig. 4–5: Spreads from the Yves Klein section in ZERO 3

fig. 6–7: Spreads from the Dieter Rot section in ZERO 3

fig. 8: Spread showing map of artist works

fig. 9–10: Closing spreads of ZERO 1, 2, 3

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These two posters, recently found deep within one of our flat file drawers, demonstrate an unusual application of the Walker commissioned typeface designed by Matthew Carter.

These intriguing posters were somewhat of a mystery until recently when we discovered (with some investigative help from a former member of the Walker studio) that each poster was designed by a Japanese designer in collaboration with Carter for use in an exhibition of Carter’s work. Titled, Matthew Carter’s Type Game: A New Identity of the Walker Art Center, this exhibition took place in 1997 at the Morisawa Typography Space in Tokyo, Japan.

Design: Yutaka Satoh

Design: Kouga Hirano

Not this Thursday, BUT next Thursday, May 1 at 7 pm, join us in the Walker Art Center Cinema for an Artist Talk between Chris Johanson and Jo Jackson. The next night (Friday, May 2), join us again for Beautiful Losers, the new documentary film (check back soon for a post including more information on this upcoming film!).

Artists Chris Johanson and Jo Jackson emerged from the late ’90s San Francisco-based skater/surf/graffiti scene, known to many as the Mission School, with portfolios of charged, figurative drawings and immersive three-dimensional environments. As a husband and wife team, the two collaborate often on projects, including an installation May 3 to June 1 at the Art of This Gallery (artofthis.net) in Minneapolis. Join the artists at the Walker for a talk about their processes, sources of inspiration and influence, and future projects. Free gallery admission from 5 to 9 pm every Thursday night. Presented by the Walker Art Center Teen Arts Council (WACTAC).

Free tickets available at the Bazinet Garden Lobby desk from 6 pm

Events take place at the Walker Art Center Cinema

← Jackson

← Johanson

← Jackson

← Johanson

The images shown are a selection of paintings by Chris Johanson and Jo Jackson from Please Listen I Have Something To Tell You About What Is and Beautiful Losers: Contemporary Art and Street Culture

I was recently introduced to two distinctive books that share common ground in terms of their use of atypical typewriter typefaces. These typefaces function, at times, as simple typographic flourishes throughout the unwavering pages of these two books. But what I appreciate most about these typefaces is that they are unexpectedly refreshing while also holding stylistic relevance (especially in light of such contemporary, typewriter-derived, typefaces like Courier Sans).

The first of these books is Herbert Muschamp’s File Under Architecture (fig. 1), a book published in 1974 by MIT Press that encompasses Muschamp’s brashly worded views and critiques on architecture. The second book is Maurizio Nannucci’s self-titled artist book (catalogue d’exposition) (fig. 2) published in collaboration with the Internationaal Cultureel Centrum in Antwerp, Belgium, in 1979.

fig. 1fig. 2

File Under Architecture—with its cardboard cover, grocery-bag-like text paper, generously spaced lines, absence of imagery and its appearance of being completely typeset on a typewriter—is impressive in terms of its restraint and pragmatism (fig. 3). The combination of these nuances, in my mind, are features that make this book a precious and more noticeably tactile object. As for the typefaces that this book is set in, there are four supplemental typewriter typefaces used as sidenotes (in addition to the standard typeface used for the body text). The varying characteristics of the typefaces give the sidenotes of this book a distinct feel and an almost distracting voice. But despite the irregular cadence and the non-unified system seen throughout this set of sidenote typefaces, they beg to be read.

The artist book from Maurizio Nannucci is also quite special considering its unbound nature and the range of delicate and rare materials (prints on tissue paper, photographs, a 7-inch vinyl record, etc.) included throughout the book. In a similar way to File Under Architecture, I appreciate the raw and semi-processed spirit of certain components of this artist book. In this particular context, typewriter typefaces are used more simply. There is a typeset interview within a standard stapled document that is housed in this artist book in which one alternate typeface is implemented as a way to differentiate one commentators words from the other. What I found most striking about the typeface defining the words of “P.S. Vraag” on these pages is that it was unlike anything I had seen in the realm of typewritten documents. The cursive and stylized features of the typeface (fig. 4)—much like the cursive typeface found in File Under Architecture (fig. 5)—are a complete contrast to what we typically visualize when thinking about typewriter typefaces.

fig. 3fig. 4fig. 5

Looking at both of these books and their lo-fi aesthetics, it’s almost as though I can imagine Muschamp and Nannucci sitting at their typewriters, manually interchanging their typeface cassettes for an alternate typeface, or, even completely switching typewriters for that matter.

This notion of using alternate typewriter typefaces sparked my interest in many ways. I began to think about how I only wished that making typographic selections were that simple and hands on (a sort of no-nonsense approach to typography). One of the things that I became most curious about was the names or types of custom typewriter typefaces that had been used during the height of typewriter technology and how many typefaces were commercially available to typewriter owners.

After a bit digging around, I found a fantastic resource at the Walker library—a journal about design and typography titled Typographica. I was fortunate enough to find issue #6 from 1962 in which an entire section of the journal was dedicated to typewriter typefaces (fig. 6). The article was introduced by a simple explanation of how typewriter typefaces were manufactured and how they functioned. In addition to this intro, the supplemental pages of this article were used to display the large number of typefaces available within the typewriter market in 1962. As you will see in the image below (fig. 7), I have selected a few of my favorites from the collection put together by Typographica.

fig. 6 — Opening page for article about typewriter typefaces, Typographica magazine, 1962

fig. 7

In the end, after discovering these two books and the article from Typographica magazine, I was happy to learn a little more about the wide variety of typewriter typefaces made available during that time. And although the idea of typesetting on a typewriter in this technological age could be considered a nostalgic trap, I admittedly find the idea to be a very charming and fundamental one. I also find myself wondering: will we ever look back at our tools—G5 Apple computers, Adobe InDesign, etc.—and think of them in the same way we do the typewriter?

Week four of the Insights Design Lecture Series features Ed Fella of Valencia, California. Concluding this year’s series, the lecture will take place on Tuesday, March 25, at 7 pm in the Walker cinema. Tickets are available here.

Ed Fella returned to school to complete his undergraduate and graduate degrees in graphic design, after three decades as a successful designer practicing in the Detroit area where he grew up. He received his MFA from the Cranbrook Academy of Art in 1987 and then headed west to teach at the California Institute of the Arts. His innovative hand-rendered and manipulated typographic compositions, masterful collages, and prolific sketchbooks prefigured the resurgence of the art form and inspired countless other designers to find their hand again in the age of computer-assisted design and desktop publishing. Fella’s work has been shown worldwide and is the subject of several books, including Edward Fella: Letters on America (2000). In 1997 he received the Chrysler Award for Design Innovation and in 2007 the AIGA Medal, its highest honor.

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As a precursor to Tuesday’s lecture we asked Ed to reveal a little about himself and his influences:

1. What have you been obsessing about?

It was getting my exhibition up at the RedCat gallery… something we have been working on for several months.

2. What’s your most prized possession?

My 70-year-old body and my 50 year’s worth of work. Both need archiving…

3. What are you reading?

“Graphs, Maps, Trees” by Franco Moretti, an actual book and “Heyday” by Kurt Andersen, an unabridged audio book…I always read both kinds in tandem, one for sitting and one for walking, drawing, or driving…

4. What’s one of your guilty pleasures?

Making “art”!

5. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Making art is good for the soul, the psyche, and the society…

6. What is one of the most unexpected influences on your design?

The discovery (or consciousness) of the “vernacular” and that I was in it!

7. What were you doing before you responded to this questionnaire?

Getting that damn exhibition up…

8. What question do you wish we’d asked you?

“Do you like filling out these types of questionnaires?” and I won’t give you the answer…

— Scans from IDEA Magazine #318 (2006) which featured Fella’s work

Some simple color inspiration for you. (All you need are these 11 basic inks.)

Color by Overprinting by Donald E. Cooke

“A complete guidebook in the art and printing techniques employing transparent inks in multiple combinations. Illustrated with 495 three- and four-color groupings of eleven basic inks, plus 44 pages of pictorial application of the medium.”

—Published in Philadelphia in 1955.

From right to left:

Roger Hilton, Gwyther Irwin, Bernard Meadows, Joe Tilson, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, 1965

Op Losse Schroeven: situaties en cryptostructuren, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, 1969

Frank Stella, Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, 1970

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Let’s start Monday morning off with a Friday Find (found Friday, Jan. 4): 3 catalogues from the Stedelijk Museum (Amsterdam) designed by Wim Crouwel and Total Design.

Take a minute to appreciate Crouwel’s graphic restraint, his enslavement to the grid and his dedication to Univers.

Take another minute to read these excerpts describing how prevalent Crouwel’s design was in the Netherlands:

“It was actually quite difficult to avoid Wim Crouwel’s work. In the 1960s the Netherlands was inundated with posters, catalogues, stamps designed by him—even the telephone book.”

—Karel Martens

“Wim Crouwel’s work has been a part of our lives since the day we were born. We grew up in a graphic landscape created by Crouwel and his contemporaries. The books we used at school, the telephone book, stamps: a lot of the printed matter in the Netherlands was designed by studios such as Total Design. (As a matter of fact, the city where both Erwin and Danny were born, Rotterdam, had a logo designed by Crouwel). As a consequence, we feel as if the graphic language of Crouwel is our mother tongue, our natural language. It’s a part of our roots.”

—Experimental Jetset

NOTE: Both of the above excerpts are from IDEA magazine #323, a recently published feature issue about Crouwel and his work.