Design is in

One of the winning posters designed by Armeen Kapadia

Good 50×70, an independent, non-profit initiative with the following aims:

- to promote the value of social communication in the creative community,
- to provide charities with a (free) database of communication tools, and
- to inspire the public via graphic design.

Their focus is an annual contest to design posters confronting seven of the critical issues affecting today’s world. They chose posters as the media for the contest as they’re the most direct way to convey a message and can be easily translated to other media.

Seven charities each provide a brief on a global issue. Anyone who wishes can enter a poster on any topic that inspires them. The best 30 responses to each brief (as selected by our jury) are collected in a catalogue and exhibited around the world. All the posters entered are supplied to the charities for them to use as potential communication tools. There aren’t any ‘winners’, unless you count the charities. The point of entering is to produce something that might make a difference in the world. What more could you ask for as a creative than that?

The results are out. This year too, like previous years, students from the Graphic Design discipline, National Institute of Design, have made it to the 210 best responses of this year. The total number of entries this year was more than 4000. What an effort. Applause. Congratulations friends.

By Sanjay Basavaraju

No, it isn't the Will Smith movie. It is about Bhutan, a Himalayan country which has never been colonized by the West or captured by its neighbor in its entire history. It is the only country that puts 'happiness' into the heart of government policy.

In 1970s, their former King Jigme Singye Wangchuck coined a term 'Gross National Happiness' (GNH), to have a holistic approach in judging Bhutan's growth, instead of 'Gross National Product' (GNP). The factor of well-being is ignored when GNP is calculated. For the very same reason, GNH became an indication of the commitment of the former King to build an economy that was based on Bhutan's culture and Buddhist values. It is common knowledge in Buddhism that every creation requires destruction. "New thoughts and ideas emerge from chaos and devastation," Bhutan Prime Minister Jigme Thinley said. "If Gross National Happiness (is to) be the new order, the old (order) certainly seems to be giving way."

Some human rights agencies are not too happy with some of the decisions that Government of Bhutan is taking. In an article in the UK based magazine Developments, Ms Renata Lok Dessallien, the Resident Co-ordinator for UN agencies in Bhutan argues, "When a sick man receives medication and health care, the GDP increases whether the man recovers or not. But GNH is not only interesting because of its combination of the quantitative and the qualitative, it also conjures up deep philosophical questions on the essence of happiness. And it allows for a relative definition of happiness, according to each person's perspective."

There is a misconception that, by taking the approach of well-being, development will take a back seat. The concept of GNH believes that development of a society takes place when both material and spiritual growth happen simultaneously and support each other. This has led Bhutan to take very different decisions from countries simply searching for wealth. Many experts believe that such an approach works in Bhutan because it is a remote kingdom and partly because it was an absolute monarchy until 2008.

The governement has derived guiding principles to development in Bhutan. These principles, termed as 'The Four Pillars', are
1. Sustainable and equitable socio-economic development
2. Conservation of environment
3. Preservation of culture
4. Good governance

In implementing these principles, the government has take some drastic steps. There is the pressure of globalization on Bhutan. Only in 1999, Bhutan introduced television and the internet. The government has control over media. Such an approach towards media has not been popular anywhere else in the world. In 2005, the Bhutanese government was criticized by human rights observers for blocking the broadcast of some Indian television channels, which were deemed a "bad social and cultural influence".

The results have begun to show. "The real appeal of Bhutan is that we feel human," says Tshewang Dendup, a graduate of the documentary film program at the University of California, Berkeley, who now works at the Bhutan Broadcasting Service. "Maybe we are somewhat isolated from the world, but we feel part of a living community that is not just connected by wires. That's why 95 percent of us exchange students return home. By and large, you would have to say people are happy here." Based on satisfactory results, GNH guidelines are being adopted in Brazil, India and Haiti.

The most extensive programs are occurring in Canada, Australia and the United States. The most significant GNH project, however, appears to be in France. The Quality of Life Commission, initiated by President Nicolas Sarkozy, with help from such notable economists as Nobel prize winners Joseph Stiglitz and Armatya Sen, is expected to launch its findings next year.

If one heard speeches of President Barack Obama, you could get a feeling that he is swinging toward GNH. He used the same vocabulary. He wants to work on healthcare, education and environment. The GNH also talks about the same things.

If anyone wants to find happiness, maybe Bhutan is the place in this world because no other country has valued happiness than this tiny Himalayan kingdom. To this end, the Bhutanese have forsaken millions of dollars in revenue from timber sales and mass tourism. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

By Sanjay Basavaraju

Book Review
About Alphabets: Some marginal notes on type design by Hermann Zapf

The M.I.T. Press

The humble size and unassuming cover of this book reflect the character of the author, Hermann Zapf, in that he is not one to shout about the work he has done, even though his accomplishments in the field of type design and calligraphy are unparalleled. The book is a simple autobiography of one of the greatest graphic and type designers of our time.

Written in the first person, the book is an interesting account of his early beginnings, and his development. Being trained in the old school of type design — when letters were drawn by hand and then manually cut out of metal blocks — he provides interesting insights and observations that would rarely occur to modern day typographers and graphic designers. For example, the kind of metal used to engrave out the letters was of prime importance, and it was a relief when lead was introduced, as it lent itself to re-soldering, and new bits and pieces could be fused into the original block of the letter if too much had been cut off.

At the same time, several of his concerns hold true even today, such as the basic aspect of readability, and durability of the typeface after thousands of print runs. Hermann Zapf is not concerned with purely the aesthetic aspect of letter forms, (and he is a master of this) but also spends large amounts of time and energy with the functional aspect. Being a calligrapher par excellence reflects in some of his creations, of which there are several examples in the book.

The author also briefly touches about his enlistment in World War 2, and the trauma it inflicted. Even during the war, he spent spare time sketching the forms of flora and fauna, as a base for a Flower Alphabet he was to create. After the war, the author starts creating typefaces for specific clients and purposes, and sets up his own Stempel Foundry. Later in the sixties he talks about his experiences in teaching in the USA, and also his involvement with book binding and publishing.

As Hermann Zapf himself acknowledges, it is a hard task to write an autobiography about oneself, but he has managed it with aplomb. The book is what its title claims it to be ‘marginal notes on type design’. Although a few more personal experiences included would have encouraged more readership. Nevertheless, one can feel his passion for typefaces and their creation, when he often refers to them as ‘children’ or ‘daughters’, having different parents, and he talks about the process to ‘name’ the ‘child’. And indeed, in that time, creating a typeface was a longer and possibly harder process than having a child, with as much joy at the end.

The author reflects on culture, the dwindling time people have for reading, and how that affects the role of a type designer. Though schooled in the traditional way of creating type, he projects the new challenges for type designers, as photo-compositing and newer technologies become mainstream. Though deeply inspired by the past, by typographers and letterers of previous centuries, and masterpieces of type such as the Trajan column, he looks keenly to the future, and warns against the ‘romanticizing’ of the past. He also softly, though manifestly shows his dislike for ugly new typefaces sprouting like weeds, especially the craze of the sans-serif types.

The book is of small size, easy to hold, and set in Linotype Optima, one of his own graceful creations. The line spacing differs, as the closer set text is a commentary on the main text, and is an interesting way of writing an autobiography, rather like two voices of the same person speaking simultaneously. He favours unusual punctuation in place of speech marks, which is quite refreshing.

This is a book any student of graphic and type design should read, as it is informative and inspiring. More importantly, it is a first-hand account of the journey and struggle of a type designer, the challenges he faced working with the technology at the time, and the culture prevalent in those years.

By Armeen Kapadia