Ventoline #1 – été 2020

Image RIP, the first publication from Source Type, is centered around New York graphic designer Geoff Han’s investigation into the Shenzen-based printer Artron and explores subjects ranging from design, production, work, and the environment in the post-industrial economy. The book gathers essays by Danielle Aubert, David Bennewith, Geoff Han, Ming Lin, Shanzhai Lyric, David Reinfurt, Mindy Seu, and Dena Yago, and features images by Ann Woo. Image RIP reflects a consistent theme in Han’s practice of the manipulation of image reproduction, printing, production, code, and other techniques to affect the process of viewing and reading.

“… Ever since its inception as a profession, graphic design has exhibited its necessity to make information public. Its urge to expand and to reproduce reflects its capitalist inheritance. This desire however isn’t always shared by all stories molded and articulated by the discipline.

Publishing is preceded by a series of labours, but the act itself consists just of a very instant. It is one loud shriek from the top of a hill. A toppling-over. From then on a story will tumble downhill—distribute and disseminate. However that happens, and who it reaches is an unpredictable process. Thereafter publishing enables, and sets in motion, all its future readings and retellings.

Wondering the many contradictory sensibilities contained in this process, we attempt to grasp their whys, their hows and their ifs. The following essays— written by Sunny Lei, Haron Barashed, Agathe Mathel, Alina Scharnhorst, Villem Sarapuu, Gal Šnajder, Seppe-Hazel Laeremans, Fernanda Saval and Eva Claycomb—stretch and curl in between these various registers of opening up and closing in.

Unraveling the movements, strategies, forms and intentions of publishing, this book attempts to unfold their utterances, platforms, languidities, reinterpretations, identities, tactilities, ambiguities, characters and audiences.”

—from the introduction by Seppe-Hazel Laeremans and Agathe Mathel.

Since 2011, the Velvetyne collective has been dedicated to creating and distributing typefaces under open-source licenses. Its members advocate and promote an uninhibited typographic practice, guided by political principles and aesthetic risk-taking.

This monograph celebrates a generous collective creation—pioneering and recognized on the international scene—that continually questions and reinvents itself. Velvetyne Saved My Life reveals the distinctive workings of this unconventional structure within the contemporary type foundry landscape, its commitment to free-culture and open-source principles, its singular editorial policy, and its pedagogical practice.

The book is structured around a polyphonic interview conducted by Sandra Chamaret with the members of the collective, a series of in-depth articles on emblematic typefaces from the foundry, as well as an exhaustive catalogue of the more than 70 fonts published by nearly as many international authors. 

Halfway between text and type specimen, this book is both a story to read and a manifesto to see.

Natural Enemies of Books is a response to the groundbreaking 1937 publication 'Bookmaking on the Distaff Side', which brought together contributions by women printers, illustrators, authors, typographers, and typesetters, highlighting the print industry’s inequalities and proposing a takeover of the history of the book. Edited by feminist graphic design collective MMS, the publication includes newly commissioned essays and poems, conversations with former typesetters Inger Humlesjö, Ingegärd Waaranperä, Gail Cartmail, and Megan Downey, and reprints of the original book and other publications.

A self-taught typographic letterer, Chrystel Crickx used to cut out letters by hand and sell them by the piece in her Publi Fluor shop in Schaerbeek, Belgium. Commercialized between 1975 and 2000 for local advertising and signage purposes, these letters have since been digitized and made more widely available to users outside of the Belgian borders and in other contexts. At the margins of standard means of communication, they have contributed to shape (and still do) the urban visual landscape, in Brussels and elsewhere.

This non-standard, collective essay attempts both to recount the life of a type model — as well as of its successive authors and their tools — while expanding the field of investigation to examine the cracks between the different stories summoned up by Chrystel Crickx's practice summons up.