Halloween

On the "commercialisation" of Halloween in The New Yorker. It was a minor ghostly evening when I was a child in the UK. Now it's global and a spectacle. Celebrating here in Japan, above.

The history of The New Yorker's Halloween covers, meanwhile, is collected on spd here.

Type 2

Two unconnected type postings:


Martin Bircher uses an old-fashioned type case to scroll low-res versions of the latest headlines. On vimeo here.

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A good-looking new and simple font for Japanese, Universal View. (And available in a box set with other fonts for only about ¥10,000 yen – about £75.)

The pitfalls of letter design

Merging Japanese and English, or missing out on input from a native-speaker of either language when designing in the other (or at least input from someone au fait with letter-function in design in either), can lead to problems in cross-language design. I think something of the kind happened with the design of the logo of a local kindergarten. I'd seen their liveried van several times and wondered what the name of the school was. I wasn't even sure if the logo was Japanese or English – though the starting "S" seemed to suggest English.

This week I was able to see the name of the school printed below the logo – Shiragiku kindergarten. The logo above reads "SHIrAGIKU", with a lowercase "r". Perhaps the intention was a suggestion of Japanese in English lettering – the former lends itself more to simplified brush strokes. Separating the right-hand vertical stroke of a capital H and shortening an "I" (!) and similarly separating the left-hand upright of the capital K means that you can get an impression of the letter "い" in hiragana (pronounced "ee" – as heard in "shira" and "giku"). Perhaps that was an intention. The lowercase "r" also looks like the Japanese letter "ト" though this time in katakana and unconnected to the sound (which is "toh").

Unfortunately, it ends up between two stools and illegible in English. A pity, as the school looks bright, well-funded and with excellent priorities (including an emphasis on learning English).

Indeed, perhaps it was a contribution from an encouraged child at the school, or intended to look like that. Or, perhaps finally, just one of the starker warnings I've come across of the dangers facing bilingual designers.

Godzilla

Godzilla, not in a post-nuclear Tokyo, but in pre-finalised Impossible Project polaroid film.

What's my line?

What's in a face? Or what's in the lines of a simple cartoon face? Specifically, what's in the simple lines of the face of a cartoon rabbit?

Dick Bruna, creator of Miffy, is defending his creation's copyright in court, where he has confronted Sanrio, the Japanese company who created Hello Kitty, over its cartoon rabbit, Kathy.

Good on Bruna for defending his intellectual copyright (perhaps ever more necessary in this days of downloads etc). But there is surely also a time when one should step back. After all, Miffy is hugely successful worldwide (not least, by a long chalk, Japan). Is this a case of "a good artist copies, a great artist steals"? (Though I'm making no claims for artistic greatness or otherwise in any of the creations).

So, is Kathy essentially a copy? Or just existing independently in a shared successful genre? Or a natural progression from Sanrio's own Kitty? Or was Kitty simply a "copy" in the first place? In other words does Kathy=Miffy, or does Kathy=Kitty or does Kathy and Kitty=Miffy? Only seemingly idle questions, as a judge has to decide on real financial rewards or penalties (Bruna is reportedly asking for 50,000 euros a day in compensation).

Update: Nov. 5, 2010. Yesterday, the court handed down its ruling that, yes, the rabbit infringed copyright, and ordered a 25,000 euro-a-day payment up to 2m euros fine for non-compliance. Not sure how "worldwide" the ruling can apply. Sanrio will contest.

Update 2, June 7, 2011: Sanrio voluntarily ceases Cathy and both sides agree to stop legal proceedings and jointly donate money, that they would have spent on continuing the case, to the relief effort after the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami!

Above, Miffy, Kathy and Kitty. Before anyone asks: Miffy © Dick Bruna, Kathy and Kitty © Sanrio. And used to illustrate the news story only!

The tree

I've just finished reading John Fowles book-essay The Tree. He writes about his personally experienced, but universally applicable, limits of our scientific and artistic approach to explaining and exploring nature (and ourselves). How nature – the "green" – is ultimately inexplicable by the thought and living processes we live by. How the "gardened" world – of literally gardens, but also our gardened, delineated lives, sciences and arts – further restricts our perceptions. And, finally, about trees. Though, of course, it's immeasurably better explained and explored in his writing than my gardened synopsis.

In fact, it's a marvellous, deeply thought book which is perhaps increasingly relevant (it was written 30 years ago and is available in an anniversary edition). So much to ponder, to agree with (so much to quote). It's unique. Not a green manual in any way, it's about the "wild", but a wild that still involves us – and much, much more in its short length. If you see someone reading it on an iPad or Kindle feel free to weep – for them and for us all.

An aside: Trees get the best and worst of times in Japan. Central Tokyo can feel, compared to London, relatively treeless, but Japan, compared to England, is extensively forested. 68% forest land compared to England's 11.8 – and a percentage higher than most of the modern world. Certain ancient trees are revered locally in temples and other areas, others challenged by concrete or serious pruning – while bonsai manages to both admire and restrict. Pictured: trees in Japan – in Sayama; Akihabara; a bonsai display and a tree and concrete; in Shinjuku; moss-covered.

Talking heads

There's an exhibition in London by photographer Martin Usborne that looks good. He has photographed dogs who have been left in cars. He says here in Foto8: "When I started this project I knew the photos would be dark. What I didn't expect was to see so many subtle reactions by the dogs: some sad, some expectant, some angry, some dejected." The exhibition is titled "Mute". The dogs faces say much.
via Abbie on Facebook

Down and dirty

In this month's Foreign Correspondent's Club magazine Number 1 Shimbun, Tony McNicol has a photo feature on Sumo training. Of course, that's not new, but he has some nice details and close-ups. Sumo is evocative of Japan – but going through hard times: a lack of Japanese taking up the super-strict regime of the sport, scandals involving champions, and one tournament this year was not televised following uncovered links links with illegal betting and yakuza. So, the sport could do with a boost and a return to concentrating on the details that matter!

Tony's pics are on his site, with the first three images being my layout for the magazine.

Last day

No chance now to catch up with this since it closes today. And I'm not in Venice. Which is where there has just been an exhibition of 100 years of Japanese poster design. Looks good. Includes posters selected by Kazumasa Nagai and Shin Matsunaga.

Setouchi International Art Festival 2010

Islands of the Seto Inland Sea area of Japan have been holding an art festival since mid-summer featuring a variety of artworks (often adapted for streets and outside areas of the islands like the "Project for Wall Paintings" by Rikuji Makabe, above). A selection of images are on the designboom website. I haven't had a chance to go, but it's on until Oct 31.

There's no place like home… (2)

Strange to see a collection of shots of parts of London mentioned in Zadie Smith's book White Teeth. It's a literary walk through several parts of my previous hometown – London – which were actually my home towns. I lived in Harlesden (of the Jubilee Clock, left), Willesden (where I drank – though perhaps only once – in the Spotted Dog pub mentioned in the article) and Kilburn (where the High Road really is no more attractive than it looks in the photo), and near Cricklewood (and know that Halal butchers) at different times. So it's funny to see them from a position in a different time and different place.

Familiarity didn't make me enjoy the celebrated White Teeth any more however. I gave up out of boredom about three-quarters of the way through. (As for books, so for art: YBA could stand for Young British Authors as much as the Young British Artists for which it was coined, and neither hold much attraction for me. There are British authors and artists I love, young and old, but they don't usually fall into that promotional category.)

There's no place like home… (1)

It appears that Guardian readers rate Tokyo as their favourite foreign city (there must be more Monocle reading travellers among them than I thought) so Pico Iyer – observer of the East and denizen of Kyoto – has written about the city in the paper. He rightly points out that essentially the beauty of Tokyo is in the details. Because the whole is a mess. It's in its moments, slices, and spaces that you'll find its attractions. (And – for non-natives – its strangenesses: only today I passed an izakaya on a side street, heading for a massage opposite it, only to hear repeated, drilled, military-decibel-level shouts of "Thank-you", "Welcome" etc. Even the masseur was surprised – but he worried for his neighbouring business that the economy means that people were eating at home and owning a small side-street izakaya was a tough business. One approach to try to overcome the lack of customers, it seems, was to train the temporary staff in committed shouts of welcome and thanks.)

In its sprawl, its relentless redevelopment, love of concrete and lack of any real continuum in building on any physically-present past, it can be confusing as to exactly what the attraction of living in Tokyo is. Rural Bordeaux was the destination of my favourite holiday, Ravenna's church mosaics stopped my breath, and London's river and Amsterdam's canals talk to my European heart. But I live in Tokyo, so what are the reasons for my enjoying the city? A lack of laddishness (nor just the oft-quoted relative safety on the streets), a love of street festivals, the welter of 6- or 8-seater bars or eateries (many with good or even high quality food at an often affordable rate), its odd discoveries and expected histories – all make Tokyo a worthy favourite for Guardian readers.

Pico's piece is here. It's illustrated, of course, with travel-style imagery of a pagoda and a Ginza city-scape, yet that's like illustrating a London guide with a Buckingham Palace guard and a shot of Oxford Street. OK, Piccadilly and the Thames I could understand. But there's a different cityscape and especially other details which I would choose to illustrate such a celebration of Tokyo. Above is a random choice of 6 of my images for why I like Tokyo – and its details.

By the way, you could try the latest bilingual (Japanese and English) edition of the magazine Pen and its Tokyo Guide 2011 issue for a produced-in-Tokyo, alternative guide to the city should you be intending to visit. 

Captions for images at top: Explore the back streets; yes, you can find the Japonesque – this bamboo is next to a cafe in Fuchu; dolls at local a museum – in a room for children to draw and copy; street festivals – an in this case having water thrown on you as part of the tradition; I told you it's a mess – but you can still sit and picnic while you ponder how it all got there; the old and the new – a shrine reflected in the office building it's under in Toranomon

Aids against AIDS

A collection of AIDS-awareness posters and printed imagery from round the world has been assembled into an exhibition and book – Graphic Intervention. I remember the above documentary shot (from 1992) used in the Benetton ad – at the time the company was associated with striking and active imagery. (And the controversy was also around whether it was promoting itself more than AIDS awareness – though, ultimately, Benetton seemed to successfully associate itself with genuine design and photographic attempts to engage people in wider issues.) It is still powerful and still seems almost posed, yet its almost religious impact stems from documentary more than contrivance. More about it, the project and the other posters from many countries is on the project's website here.

"Imagine no possessions…"

…except for a John Lennon Special Edition Mont Blanc pen. I mean exceptions must be made, notably for a pen that retails at $920. Gosh, how he must have really meant those lyrics. Visit the special site, and wait while it loads (a while, so you can watch a little "peace" symbol unfold as the loading icon.) At the end, "Imagine" plays  in an instrumental version – don't want the lyrics to interfere with the sell. Or, just don't visit the site – up to you.

I'm not a Lennon fan really; usually couldn't care less about celebrity endorsement; was quite comfortable with Bob Dylan selling Victoria's Secret underwear  – but walking past the Mont Blanc shop in still-monied Ginza in Tokyo and seeing this promotion did just seem a tad too much.

One difference between "adult" manga and "children's" manga

(Though there are other differences)

Branding – success and failure

Firstly, from the UK a branding success. I always assumed when young and growing up in the UK that pub-style branding (in this case, pictured above, Watney-owned pubs) was just a natural outgrowth of "tradition". Nobody had "designed" it as such – at least, not in a sit-down and decide-on-it sense. And I never revised my thought after I grew up and worked in design. How slow can I be? So, it's good to see this piece in The Guardian on the Design Research Unit and their brandings of Watney Pubs.  Successful design, incorporating an idea of "tradition" and imprinting on a young mind that that is just how pubs looked. The article also includes their work on the old (and excellent) British Rail logo and London street signage and more. Wonderful work.

Secondly, a branding failure. I didn't even know this was happening. And then it no longer is. Gap decided to rebrand (ie: update – or, explained in corporate-speak, "Gap's target customer is the millennial, and we're exploring ways to communicate with them"). After two years of planning and work, they decided on the above-right new logo. Went public with it. And swiftly returned to the original after a social media backlash. In this case, I'd sympathise with the criticism that this wasn't the best rebranding decision, but, on the other hand, will private companies now fall back on crowd-sourced opinions on branding? Not always the most reliable approach. This logo, for example, seems more just somewhat bland than terrible. I would worry that a private company only goes with the popular (online) vote.

Well, perhaps it's an unnecessary worry – in this case at least I would share some of the crowd-sourced puzzlement, though certainly not outrage, at the branding. Why Helvetica? (Well, "why not?", of course – Helvetica is an acceptable and established font – but firstly "why?") The small blue square doesn't seem an historical legacy, just an historical hangover – and literally a hangover: it looks like it's about to topple off. And why the abrupt change rather than a continuation of an already successful brand?

I haven't read how far Gap got with implementing the change. Just in the US, I believe. But just online? Were store signs being made? Were bags being printed? Were new labels being stitched into clothes? An expensive mistake already, so let's hope they didn't get that far.

At the moment, Gap are playing it as a social media success for the company (they listened to their customers) rather than a rebranding fail. Perhaps that's the case.

More revitalisation of Polaroid

Julian Schnabel's excellent Polaroid portraits, taken from his experimental homemade camera (featured in The Guardian)

The colour of money

The CMYK Mighty Wallet…

Via spd

Big

The world's biggest printed book was unveiled at the Frankfurt Book Fair last week.

An atlas, it beats the previous size-record held by – an atlas. That previous one – the Klencke Atlas – was from 350 years ago, though. At that time I imagine atlases were at the forefront of new publishing ideas. So, as digital devices threaten traditional publishing, I find it a slight shame that an atlas should again be the subject of the biggest book. To celebrate print on this scale, in this era, it would have been nice to feature something also "contemporary". An atlas of the stars, at least, or a book of the cosmos. Perhaps the world's biggest book on the quantum and atomic or the microscopic world. Portraits, or any details we don't normally see so large. There's too many possibilities to list seriously here.

I like the idea of promoting print at the very book fair that, as I linked this week, is being held in the shadow (or light) of fundamental change to the digital, but it does seem a shame that the second time a book should be printed at this scale the publishers choose the same topic as the first, several centuries before.

The 1350 Klencke Atlas on display at the British Museum – 30 cm smaller than the new book. (Claims to other size-record claims and what constitutes a book, can be sorted out by others!)

Here Kitty, Kitty and Kitty…

Hello Kitty, in her regal blankness, continues to inspire the desire to distort and co-opt. New Zealand illustrator and designer Joseph Senior has drawn her in combination with any number of other famous icons (see his Flickr collection), from Kiss to Kirk via any number of fictional or cultural characters (such as the Maori Hello Kia Ora Kitty, below). He is planning a coffee-table book. Above, sections from his Ultraman, Doraemon, Ugly Betty and Captain Kirk Kitties.)

3 stories of print design in the modern age

1) The question of the death of publishing is posed again, but well discussed in The Independent this week – here.

2) The New Yorker introduces a new section to its Book Bench blog – designers discuss their work on book covers.

3) Business cards. In Japan meishi are practically essential. (And as with everything essential in Japan, also come with a fetishised method of use: present with both hands, receive with both hands, keep on the table during the meeting, don't put in a pocket etc. For a cute film, see here!) But it seems that in America too, they are one form of print design actually increasing in production. Read the story in The Washington Post here.

Above: "Is print dead?" – I've written it here with Ina Reijnen's free Apphabet font; from the Book Bench blog; exchanging 名刺 (business cards)

Below: The business card story gives me an excuse to link to a clip from the great American Psycho:

"In another century"

Small but satisfying interview in Ready Made magazine with Paul Giambarba about his original Polaroid packaging design. Still freelancing (at 81), he also designed the packaging for the Impossible Project's passed-sell-by-date Polaroid film.

Paul's own blog is here.

Meanwhile, I'm struggling with The Impossible Project's latest colour film, which hates light so much it doesn't seem to work during the day. Difficult to find a time-of-day and place to use it. Above is a lit drink dispenser at night and two Pokemon sweet bags from ANA hanging in my un-sunlit front room.

Pac-Man exhibition

Visited 3331 Arts Chiyoda over the weekend. There are a group of small galleries and spaces, a cafe and central large exhibition area, all in a converted school (School 3331 as it was). It's free to enter – funding obviously comes from the ku (borough), Chiyoda. Back in the UK, the arts are facing big cuts – at least from central government. And I would think the same here. So I was a little surprised to come across it, both for that reason and because, well, I simply didn't know it existed.

Anyway, in this post, I'm not discussing the benefits or otherwise of local-government funding for arts. Just noting that the main exhibition was about three decades of Pac-Man. Three decades is ancient history in the timeline of computer games, though Pac-Man's simplicity means it still remains a favourite.

Inked up

Nice look at how printing ink is made – at the aptly named Printing Ink Company. (Though the nice classical music soundtrack may hide the sound of the shop floor judging by the ear protector worn in one shot!)
From various sources.

Connecting atoms

The Guardian chose David Blandy for their column, "Artist of the week".

The photo they used to illustrate the piece (below) caught my eye. A very everyday Japanese-city image. It's taken from Blandy's video, trailered above, Child of the Atom. Looks like it might be interesting. David Blandy is something of a Japanophile, it seems, and the film explores an interest in Japanese culture and his own family story that hold that had not the bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki ended the war, his own grandfather wouldn't have survived being a PoW of the Japanese to father the family of which Blandy is one member.