What do you see? I had drinks with a friend this week who is a creative director at a big online-retail brand. He’s working on a refresh that includes new visual elements for the brand’s website. He found a designer whose work he really liked but wanted to get the approval of his CEO before pressing play. She also loved it and thought that their work was nuanced and beautiful but she vetoed hiring them. “Their designs are incredible but most people visiting our site will never notice these details,” she said to my friend. “They need something that just hits them.” In truth, my friend sees things that other people just don’t spot. Through his eyes, the world is rendered in fine brush strokes. He spies myriad ways to improve what’s around him and subtly change perceptions, while most just click and pay.
Erik Spiekermann is one of the world’s most influential typographers and a long-term friend of Monocle. He came into the office a few days ago for a catch-up. He’s very amusing and very direct – a livewire. You have to up your game when you are around him. Some years ago, when he met a former colleague for the first time, he pointed to his follically compromised pate and said by way of introduction, “You, me, the same problem.” This time his parting shot to me was, “You’re looking pretty good – just a bit grey.” In short, I love the man.
Anyway, one of the reasons he came calling was to give us a gift: a set of books. Back home in Berlin, he has an impressive letterpress set-up, where he resets and reprints limited-edition versions of novels and some factual books. It’s called TOC – The Other Collection – and he is part of a team that includes designer Susanna Dulkinys, author Irene Dische and publisher Birgit Schmitz. Every book gets a new jacket, which is based on a fabric that connects to the story, the topic and the author. The writer signs every book and they are numbered too.
But it’s the design and the consideration that floors you. Spiekermann talked to us about how the team selects the right font and ink colour, and how chapter headers are painstakingly made. The outcome of all this deliberation is a bound masterpiece. I just looked at the TOC site and you can get a copy of William Boyd’s Any Human Heart for £121 (€142) with its dustjacket printed to look like pinstripe suiting because, “it’s the story of a man who always wore a suit, even when he survived on canned dog food”.
For Spiekermann, it’s a wasted opportunity if you don’t select a font embedded with the right meaning. If you allow your company to persist with a jumble of typefaces, when one carefully chosen example could deliver elegance and clarity of thought or help make a business a relevant brand. Like a specialist surgeon, he knows what’s wrong just by looking. But would the person who persists with their e-reader, reading books in the ugliest format known to man, ever see what Spiekermann’s focus alights on – or even care?
In the February issue of Monocle, which is out now, there’s an interview with a remarkable young man, Pierro Pozella, who repairs old film cameras. He has harnessed his dyslexia and currently-being-assessed autism to become one of the best in his field. I visited him just before Christmas and he explained that when he sees a broken Pentax or Nikon, he can explode the camera into all its constituent parts in his mind and sense what needs mending and how to make everything work again gracefully. Even when he pursues his passion for photography, he alights on details through the viewfinder that I would miss and that many of us find too commonplace to linger on. Another set of eyes that sees the world in a unique way.
For anyone who makes anything, cares about appearances, frets over how they look, believes in design, these encounters have all made me wonder this week: what do I see?