I hope you don’t mind that this month’s mailing is a quick one! My wife Emily and I are celebrating the early arrival of our twins, Astrid and Hazel, who were born less than a week ago. All is well, but I thought I had more time! 😅
Small caps
This month I am sending you something else that is small—Pomfret Optical Sizes.
I drew the typeface with razor-thin hairlines, which turned out to be a double-edged sword. I loved how they glimmered at the very largest of sizes, but they could be a headache-inducing liability in practically any other context.
Pomfret’s new Micro size is sturdy, wide, and slabby—a big departure from the delicate, slender serifs of the original Banner style.
While the Micro isn’t quite as elegant as the original Banner style, it opens the door to useful interpolations between the two extremes. These can take the edge off of Pomfret’s super-high contrast and ensure that its hairlines never disappear.
These fonts are very much a work-in-progress—caps only, with a limited character set and features. But I see them as a first step towards a proper text family for Pomfret, designed for extended reading.
Megazoid is not a font begging for an italic companion. It’s not some bookface that needs a secondary style. And it’s definitely not in need of added emphasis.
It’s easy to forget that Italics were not originally the sidekicks they are today. Entire books were rendered in the italic hand and typeset in italic fonts. They represented an independent way of thinking about the Latin lowercase that was separate from the Roman style and more connected to the flow of handwriting.
Megazoid is about the furthest thing from handwriting. It’s a typeface built up from pure geometry—squares, circles, and trapezoids. But what if I attempted to harness those same shapes, and reassemble them with an Italic mindset? It feels like it shouldn’t work, but Megazoid Italic turned out to be one of the most perversely fun italics I’ve ever worked on.
Megazoid is rooted in basic, unsophisticated geometry, so it was of paramount importance that its circles remained circular. This became my furthest foray into the exciting world of rotalics, where Italic letterforms are rotated more than they are skewed. It almost requires that you tilt your head, transforming the reading experience from 😂 to 🤣, at least when you’re reading something funny.
Even though Megazoid does not go full-on rotalic, there is evidence of the approach in letters like O/o and the circular counters, which are identical to the Roman. You can also see rotation at work more subtly in the curves inside the counterforms of letters like n and the slight curve on the bottom of p before it meets the descender.
I chose a 15° italic angle because it matches the 15° angles already present in the diagonal letters such as A/V/Y/v/y. These letters contain one slanted side and one upright side, and I found that they could work equally well in both Roman and Italic, so I left them untouched.
This juxtaposition of bold geometry and cursiveness has been simmering in my brain since I revived Erbar’s Lautsprescher in 2019, and it was reignited again in 2021 when I visited Cleveland, Ohio, for the first time. Aside from hosting some of the best transitlogos in the country, Cleveland is where I happened to pass by Zagar Machine Tool Builders, whose distinctive logo emboldened me to draw what is probably Megazoid’s most objectionable letter, a zig-zag lowercase r. (Don’t worry, there is an alternate.)
This was the same year that Ricola moved away from the geometry in their original logo, and my original vision for this typeface was more along the lines of a connecting geometric script in that style. Over time, it distilled into a kind of Minimum Viable Italicness, with common Italic call-signs like a single-story a, rounded e, and descending f, as well as little horizontal tails protruding from the right side of letters like n/m/u/w.
I might return to the idea of a connecting script for Megazoid someday, but I’m pleased at how effective these pared-down tails are at communicating a sense of cursiveness. They do disrupt the letterspacing quite a bit, and muddy the waters of Megazoid’s geometric purity. But they’re fun and weird—in the end, that’s what Megazoid is all about!
The “font” vs “typeface” distinction has never been one that I’ve particularly cared about. I tend to use the words more-or-less interchangeably, and whether you are talking about an OTF font file or the designs of letterforms, I can always tell what you mean.
If we’re going to split typographic hairs, the distinction between “characters” and “glyphs” is far more interesting to me. By “characters” I mean the abstract symbols that get encoded into our documents (the concept of the letter A), and by “glyphs” I mean the specific drawings that represent those symbols (a particular rendition of the letter A in a particular font).
I don’t mean to get into a whole semiotics discussion here, but I think it’s useful to look at the typography we do as a veil draped over the underlying sequence of characters that make up our documents. In the Latin script, a lot of the time that veil is essentially transparent—you type an A, you see an A. But in other writing systems, and even in advanced Latin typesetting, the character/glyph relationship can become more important and more complex—think of ligatures, where multiple characters are represented by a single glyph, or OpenType alternates, where multiple glyphs can represent the same character.
A font is essentially a database that maps the characters that we type to the glyphs that we see. And this month I am sending you Input Cipher, a font that highlights the glyph/character relationship by completely destroying it.
Input Cipher is the typographic equivalent of the decoder ring that your childhood self might have found inside a cereal box. You can type out a message in the font, and then use a variable axis to “encrypt” the text using a handful of common substitution ciphers like ROT13, where the basic Latin alphabet is rotated 13 letters so that A becomes N, B becomes O, C becomes P, etc.
I put “encrypt” in quotes because your message is not actually getting encrypted: the glyphs you see will change, but the underlying characters you typed stay exactly the same. Try using a screen reader or copying some ciphertext and pasting it elsewhere—the original message is untouched! (A screenshot will capture it, though. 😉)
The cipher axes rotate through A-Z (Caesar’s cipher, including ROT13), the ASCII character set (including ROT47), and 0-9 (including ROT5). In addition, you can map A-Z to its reverse (Atbash), redact the text completely, and use the Decode axis to gradually reveal the original message. There are also bonus OpenType features that can read and write Morse code, which you can type with dots and dashes, like this: .... . .-.. .-.. ---
I’m no cryptography expert, but even I know that these ciphers are of little cryptographic value—it would be easy for someone to crack these codes by tracking double letters, letter-frequency, and other codebreaking techniques.
But data security is not really the point of this font. The point is to have fun! Send secret messages to your friends…or your enemies. Decrypt messages from others by trying to locate the inverse axis positions. Use the Decode axis to quickly scramble and reveal your text in animations or interactive media. Or, just bask in the cognitive dissonance that comes with typing a letter ands seeing an entirely different one appear.
This isn’t the first font to encode ciphertext, nor is it unique in offering obfuscation and redaction (I love LTR NCND’s typewriter-y take). But I don’t know of many fonts that apply glyph substitution so extensively across variable axes. With over 11,000 letter substitutions occurring in rapid succession, Input Cipher turned out to be an interesting test case of where we are with variable font support at the moment. Web browsers, Photoshop and Figma seem to do fine with these axes, at least on my computer. InDesign does nothing, and Illustrator just crashes. 😂 So what I’m trying to say is…your mileage may vary!
I don’t love the idea of sending you a font that doesn’t work everywhere, but I think it’s also helpful to have publicly-available edge cases for app developers to test with. And even if you can’t use the font in your favorite app, I worked with Nick Noble on a browser-based demo page that you can use for all your encrypting needs!
If all of this cipher nonsense isn’t for you, I hope you enjoy the sneak peek of Input Serif Mono, the newest member of the Input family of coding fonts. Omitted from Input’s original release of Sans, Serif, and (Sans) Mono in 2014, it’s the centerpiece of a long-overdue update that I’ve been working on with the help of Ruggero Magrì. Like its sans serif predecessor, Input Serif Mono sets itself apart by offering a series of widths in addition to the usual weights, giving you the power to control the proportions of the monospace grid.
Last month I sent you The Rest of Bild, a name I now realize misleadingly implies some kind of happily-ever-after ending for the font. On the contrary, I consider Bild to be anything but finished, and this whole month I haven’t been able to shake the nagging feeling that something was still missing from the family.
Bild is a “what if” font: what if Trade Gothic was built around its Bold Condensed styles? By carrying that style across weight and width, it creates a bigger straight-sided Gothic sandbox for designers to play in. But at the same time, it’s not a very opinionated design—I wouldn’t call it generic, but it isn’t very specific either. It doesn’t tell you a lot about how it wants to be used, and perhaps doesn’t do enough to invite you to play in the sandbox it has created. Where are the swings? The slides? The monkey bars?
Type design involves so many details that it’s easy to forget that, when viewed at a distance, fonts essentially boil down to rhythm, density, and proportion. Bild’s width and weight variants give you lots of control over the rhythm and density pretty nicely. But the proportions…maybe there is still something there that could unlock expressive potential while keeping within the parameters of the original design. So this month, I’m sending you Bild Poster, which asks the question: Is Bild’s x-height its X-factor?
Bild now features a variable x-height axis (XHGT) that gives you the ability to dynamically raise the height of the lowercase letters. It’s a very simple transformation but one that radically alters the character of the design. It offers an edgier, Display-ier look that I hope can really sing in large poster use, following in the footsteps of other supertall x-height grots like Inserat-Grotesk, Anzeigen-Grotesk, and of course the ubiquitous Impact.
Bild is far from the first variable font to provide a variable axis for manipulating the x-height. CJ Dunn’s Dunbar, one of the earliest variable font releases, has an axis that took his Erbar-inspired geometric from the low-slung 1920s look to the almost-too-much ITC style of the 1960s and ’70s. There are also several parametric fonts out there that allow for manipulation of the x-height via with the YTLC axis. I also just discovered that newglyph’s Swiss Poster (released two days ago!) features a similar concept.
Bild’s lowercase doesn’t get wider as it gets taller, but it’s not quite parametric either. First, I made subtle reductions to the descender lengths to keep them from sticking out too much. Then I changed the kerning, especially in situations where lowercase could no longer tuck underneath other caps as the x-height grows, like the word “Tuck” shown above. It took a lot of trial and error to map these breakpoints across what is now a three-dimensional space (a perfect use case for Occupant Fonts’s helpful tool).
A taller x-height leaves less space for all stuff that appears above the letters: ascenders, accents, and the dots on i and j. I took special care to manage their alignment as you traverse the space, and added a special “Cap Snap” OpenType feature that will clip the tops and bottoms of the will shorten the ascenders to match the cap height, helpful when stacking lines of text with super-tight leading.
As I increased the x-height for Bild Poster, it dawned on me that elongating the letterforms to make them taller was just another way of elongating the letterforms to make them narrower. Since I was practically doing half the drawing already, I went ahead and added two new widths to the family (Skyline and Extra Compressed) as well.
Most supertall sans serifs can get very picket-fence-y, with long terminals on letters like s, c, and e that reach inward to enclose their whitespaces (two fonts of mine that do this are Fit and Nickel Gothic). Even at its narrowest extremes, Bild sets itself apart by truncating its terminals prematurely, leaving massive gaps that make the letters feel both closed and open at the same time (check out “Splices” above). This feature, along with the angular, asymmetrical arches on h, m, and n, prevents things from getting too clean and same-y, and preserves the feeling of Trade Gothic even as the proportions stray farther and farther from the source material.
Is an adjustable x-height actually worthwhile? Is this what the sans serifs of the future will offer, or is just a cheap gimmick? I don’t know but I figured it was worth an extra month of work on this to inject something unexpected into this otherwise-straightforward design. I hope you find some value in this addition to Bild, and I’m x-heighted to see what you do with it! (sorry)
This July, I’ve been thinking a lot about the surprisingly large role that frustration plays in my design process. I got fed up with my lack of progress on the font that I had planned to send you earlier this month, and decided to scrap it. This has officially put me behind schedule—I’m sneaking in its replacement today (just under the wire!), and I expect to deliver August’s font later in the month as well.
Frustration can certainly grind things to a halt, but it can also serve as a fuel that propels projects through periods of doubt and uncertainty. Many of my fonts sit around in a mostly-complete-but-can-I-really-call-it-finished? purgatory...sometimes for years! It can take an angry moment—“Why the heck is this font still sitting around like this?”—to give them that final push out the door.
Since its last update in 2020, Bild has existed as a disjointed almost-family: after starting as a single Black Condensed weight, I expanded it first as a series of widths in one weight, and again as a series of weights in one width. Recently, I’ve gotten a few requests for more Bild, and I had to ask myself: Why the heck is it still sitting around like this?
This month, I’ve finally added Bild’s missing fourth corner, uniting Bild into a single series and fleshing out the wider/lighter side of the designspace. I present to you: The Rest of Bild.
Named by Indra Kupferschmid and prompted by Sam Berlow nearly a decade ago, Bild follows in the footsteps of the “black sheep” styles of the classic mid-20th century workhorse Trade Gothic. While most of Trade Gothic’s design resembles Benton’s News Gothic/Franklin Gothic (see also the recent HEX Franklin), its Bold and Bold Condensed No. 20 are more rigid, with straight-round shapes and not-quite-horizontal terminals on letters like G and C.
Bild imagines an alternate universe where an entire family is built around these straight-sided outliers. I tried to retain the clunkiness of these styles but without any grittiness; I wasn’t going for a warts-and-all revival of early 20th century headline types like Alternate or Railroad Gothic.
At the same time, I wanted to leave in enough inconsistency for Bild to remain a little pedestrian, with notably less mechanical sparkle than, say, Nickel Gothic Condensed. This is maybe a weird thing to say about fonts that I like, but the Trade Gothic outliers have a beautiful dullness to them, and I think part of the reason I’ve put off this update for so long is because I’ve never been sure how to capture that.
Like last month’s Rhody, straight-sidedness is a crucial part of this design. As Bild’s shapes widen and its O becomes more circular, I looked for ways to accentuate that feature. I avoided letting the round shapes get too wide, and I played a lot with the curve tension and stroke angle in letters like p/d/b/q to reinforce the stop-and-go momentum of these shapes; their bowls needed to feel like three separate gestures instead of one continuous curve.
Bild’s multiaxis variable font also includes several feature variations carried over from the previous versions, hard swaps among the smooth interpolations. This includes a T with tuck-under kerning, a Bold i/j-dot that snaps to the cap height or the ascender height depending on the width, and a Q that gains a cross-through tail in its lighter weights.
After years of hemming and hawing on Bild, I gotta say I am relieved to see it unified into a coherent family. I don’t know…maybe I need to get frustrated more often?
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