It’s easy to think about type as being cold and technical, just another
element of craft. I don’t. Type is sensual and tactile. It’s not just
nitty-gritty letterspacing. If you get it, you can feel it. When I’m
working I feel the type, not just metaphorically, but tactilely at
the end of my fingers when it clicks into place or is just plain wrong. I
think of type as a sensual object that you have to treat very well,
and you only want the best. It should be elegant, not something
you’d pick up at a roadhouse bar.
Recently, we needed to make a presentation to a large group—
multiple divisions of a corporation. For the most part, everyone
was receptive and supportive, except one woman who looked disturbingly
like the Little House on the Prairie school marm. We said
we wanted one of the pieces to be sexy—we were referring to type
issues—and she became visibly upset. She was honestly offnded
by this. I told our contact that I wasn’t looking for hard-core
porn—I wanted the type to be visceral and beautiful, not clinical.
I learned my lesson; typography and sexiness don’t go together for
most civilians.
Noreen [Morioka] and I went back and forth about what should be on the STEP cover that would drag you across the room
if you saw it on the newsstand. I have to give credit here to our art director, Volker Dürre: His input led us to this solution. We just finished the redesign of Health and we have all of our studies for
their cover. We went to newsstands and took pictures, and then
in Photoshop we placed the Health cover in different places on the
shelf—in front, in back, to the left, to the right. It really helped us
determine what elements go where to call attention to the cover.
For STEP, we began with another version—a full-fledged specimen
sheet that called out the erogenous zones, emotional zones,
and intellectual zones [above, left]. It ended up being much too
complex to work on the cover. A cover has to be like a poster. So
we went back and thought, “How do we make this feel like a great
poster? A giant letterform will be perfect! It will draw people in
from across the room to take a closer look” [above, right].
The S is set in Firmin Didot—it’s 18th century French. Lou
Dorfsman redrew it for the CBS building signage, resulting in the
most beautiful elevator panels on the planet. It’s such a beautiful
font—it has crispy edges, and is so refined. And maybe because
it’s French it makes it just that much sexier.