Anatomy of Design

14

ANATOMY OF DESIGN

These two posters, created by Lippa Pearce for the same regional playhouse in

England (though for different productions), illustrate the playfulness of graphic

design and share three traits: (1) Both are all type—that is, the images and the

letterforms are one and the same); (2) The type is formed of materials other than

traditional fonts—that is, each is physically constructed from an object or substance;

and (3) Negative space is key to the graphic impact—that is, the physical and

mental spaces that form the letter/image help bring the posters to life. Each trait

falls into a behavioral creative category Paul Rand called the play principle, which

implies that the design, like a child, intuitively (and joyfully) toys with design

elements until achieving a personally satisfying and perhaps universally enjoyable

or recognizable result. These posters are textbook examples (well, they appear in

this book) of how designers use their tools and manipulate forms to tickle the

mind into transforming literal things—in this case, the titles of the plays—into minor

works of art that transcend the ordinary typeset words on paper).

Shakespeare’s

Macbeth is appropriately (and slyly) formed by splattered

blood; the deep red hue generates an immediate visceral reaction, and the

congealed shape is conspicuous. Of course, blood alone cannot (unless a clue in a

murder mystery) precisely convey a message (or, in this case, the title). As a

graphic device, dripping, oozing, or smeared blood is a fairly common trope used

to elicit both comic and serious horror. Ubiquitous on Halloween graphics and

vampire and

Friday the 13th movie posters, it also represents more deadly issues

such as crime, war, and genocide. Because blood splatters and stains can easily

be discounted as melodrama or farce, they must be applied judiciously to avoid

cliché amid the other overused signs and symbols in the designer’s toolkit.

Nonetheless, the blood here serves a more formal purpose as a frame

for the title. Set alone, the typeset

Macbeth is recognizable to anyone who has

read or seen a Shakespeare play, but when composed of the splatter and thus

distorted and obscured by the amorphous shape, the title takes on greater

significance. The negative space employed here is a time-honored design tool

because it forces the viewer to decipher the message and, like a magnet, the

pull on the eye. It demands greater cognition and, as a result, increased

interaction with the message. Type, however, isn’t the only visual material that

benefits. In the two posters shown here for

Romeo and Juliet, each a visual pun

that abstractly shows Shakespeare’s ill-fated lovers composed of a heart and

knife, negative space is used to conceal and reveal these plot symbols.

Likewise, in the Polish theater poster for

Antony and Cleopatra, designed by Lex

Drewinski, where the negative space forms a female body from the torso down

reveals a bigger and more playful graphic tease: a snake that forms the

separation between the legs, with its forked tongue as the buttocks. Because

the eye is fooled, the overall concept is more resonant—and witty.

Building letters and words out of three-dimensional objects—whether

stone or wood, trees or bushes—is a fairly common design conceit, and it is

also a case where negative space greatly adds to the success of the overall

message. Sometimes the letterforms are sculptures that contrast with the

environment because monuments made of letters and words can be imposing

and jarring to the senses. Moreover, convention dictates that a title or headline

is two-dimensional, so when it is not, the eye and mind are piqued. The poster

for Ibsen’s

A Doll’s House tests perception on various levels. One is readability:

While readable, it requires a second glance to fully comprehend the message,

and this is a good thing because that demands more interactivity. The other is

concept: Ibsen’s main character, Nora, fights a male-dominated, suffocating,

patriarchal society by deconstructing the doll’s house in which she is

imprisoned. The precarious wood-type blocks of the poster represent the

fragility and ultimate demolition of these rules and mores. Photographed against

such empty space, the type playfully represents this otherwise serious drama.

Macbeth and The Doll’s House

Designer: Harry Pearce

2003 Macbeth, poster

2004

Isben: A Doll's House, poster

ad,d: Harry Pearce dd: Lippa Pearce s: Lippa Pearce Design s: Milton Theatre

1.

One of a series of typographic theatre posters. The typography graphically spells out

the title of the play, leaving no question as to the tragic themes of Shakespeare’s

masterpiece.

2. One of a series of typographic theatre posters for a small regional playhouse; this one,

for a production of Ibsen's “A Doll’s House”. The woodblock type spells out the title as well

as simultaneously appearing as building blocks for a child's toy house.

Blood splatter

Negative space type

Type architecture

Printer’s lead type