
From corporate rhetoric to consumer cliché to faux finishes and desktop veneer, truth has gone from being a steadfast principle to a silly posture. Once the stuff of morals and fables, its presence in everyday life has become an imperiled commodity. We're left with a culture teeming with contradiction: Reality TV. Fuzzy Math. Jumbo Shrimp. Political Intelligence.
Is it real or is it memorex?
If form is driven by content, then the consequences of this shaky reality have driven us further from the utopian promises of modernism than any of us ever dared to imagine.
Wither the ampersand?
In a decidedly non-utopian analysis of current design thinking and practice, the ampersand provides a unique lens through which to examine truth as an ideal and design as a reality. Bill and I spending a week this summer at the
Maine School of Art working with students and contemplating the fates and fictions of
and and
and.
Letterpress printers have long grouped the ampersand along with other assorted marks (including the asterisk and number sign) under the loose rubric of "allsorts." See the separated-at-birth diptych above: not quite punctuation mark and not quite ligature, the ampersand is a confection to be savored, indeed.
It seems to me that the history of type (all letters) from the Trajan Column on has been a series of utopian desires. Everyone is always looking for the ideal letterform, and even those deconstructionists are trying to be precise about the nature of reality. I wonder how utopianism ever got lost, when everything we say, do, and design seems to be a longing for it, even still.
03.12.04 at 11:25