French photographer Eric Tabuchi captures everything from the logos on the back of semis, to smalltown Chinese restaurants, to mobile homes and restricted areas. The sheer volume of his documentation is well worth a visit to his website.
A portrait of the last daily market in Paris, Marché d’Aligre.
I posted these promotional videos for EF Language Schools a week ago, but after they circulated the blogosphere, I watched the Paris video again. I realized that it deserved its own post, not only for its impeccable typographic treatments, but also for its cheerful beat, that reminds me how one is always happier in Paris.
There are also videos for Barcelona, London, and Beijing—and you can view them all on their vimeo page.
[ Directed by Gustav Johansson, typography by Albin Holmqvist ]
Nostalgic photograph by Tanji Tiziana.
The Moulin Rouge changes to a refined typographic brand.
I highly recommend the new exhibit at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Postwar Avant Garde and the Culture of Protest, 1945 to 1968 and beyond. Lining the library’s five-floor center of rare books are fifty posters from the Paris uprising of 1968 (among other specimens of Avant Garde art). These posters were beautifully designed, but they were also cheaply made in order to plaster them throughout Paris. Below are excerpts from The Story of Graphic Design in France, which provide background to these explosive guerrilla posters:
The student revolt of May 1968 broke out in a superficially serene world, sparking a major social crisis; unprecedented opposition to the industrial and consumer society suddenly came to the foreground. The subsequent general strike quickly brought the country to a standstill: teaching establishments, large companies, and most institutions were occupied, and the official reaction of political dramatization was exacerbated by the absence of images and by an anachronistic misinformation campaign. The students of the Beaux-Arts in Paris, together with the members of the Jeune Peinture movement and the artists from various horizons, founded the Atelier Populaire, which began to produce large quantities of militant posters: other workshops in various French schools (including the Arts Decoratifs) were quick to follow suit. Previously accepted rules of communication were challenged by the efficiency of graffiti and by the impact of posters produced by the workshops…
The members of the Jeune Peinture group and some like-minded friends made the occupied Ecole des Beaux-Arts their militant headquarters; they founded the Atelier Populaire with the students’ participation, and equipped it with screen printing material. General assemblies decided on the slogans and projects to be printed, the guidelines being simplicity and efficiency.
The Philippe Zoummeroff Collection of May 1968 at the Beinecke—a digital archive of 244 French posters—can be viewed here.
Designed by Jean Widmer in 1977, the logo for the Centre Pompidou starkly evokes the building’s unique structure. Probably my favorite museum in existence, the building is like an “exposed skeleton,” with its functional and structural elements color-coded into the following categories: green = plumbing; blue = climate control; yellow = electrical wires; red = circulation elements and safety objects.
Widmer, however, disregards this vibrant architecture with his black and white logo. Instead, Widmer focuses on the tiered escalators that jut out from the front facade of the building. Museum visitors must ride these escalators in order to visit the galleries, and the ride is their first enclosed interaction with the building’s exoskeleton.
Here are some of Widmer’s initial sketches for the museum’s identity:
I occasionally go to Atticus Bookstore to read children’s books. The simple narratives, rich illustrations, and overall innocence of picture books is welcome after spending an entire day on a computer or even reading a complex novel (though Professor Evelyn Ashford in Wit does read The Runaway Bunny to be a “little allegory of the soul”).
For some time, I was tempted by the bookstore window display, which boldly advertised Miroslav Sasek’s This is the Way to the Moon. Last weekend, I finally splurged by taking a moment to read it on one of their miniature, six-inches-off-the-floor stools. I was disappointed to find that it was only a reissued edition of This is Cape Canaveral—let’s just say that Florida is much less interesting than the moon.
However, the experience reminded me of how much I love Miroslav Sasek. I only own two of his global enterprise—This is Paris and This is New York—but each time I read them, I am surprised by the beautiful illustrations and the witty, and often bizarre, descriptions. Here are a few of my favorite illustrations from This is Paris:
I discovered the French graphic designer Vincent Perrotet this week. Here he is at work, but you must visit his website yourself to see the unmatched energy and playful typography in his designs.
© 2011 Jessica Svendsen
