Helvetica’s 50-year anniversary celebrations in 2007 were overwhelming and contagious. We saw the movie. Twice. We bought the shirts and the buttons. We dug out the homage books and re-read the hate articles. We mourned the fading non-color of an old black shirt proudly exclaiming that “HELVETICA IS NOT AN ADOBE FONT”. We took part in long conversations discussing the merits of the Swiss classic, that most sacred of typographic dreamboats, outlasting its builder and tenants to go on alone and saturate the world with the fundamental truth of its perfect logarithm. We swooned again over its subtleties (“Ah, that mermaid of an R!”). We rehashed decades-old debates about “Hakzidenz,” “improvement in mind” and “less is more.” We dutifully cursed every single one of Helvetica’s knockoffs. We breathed deeply and closed our eyes on perfect Shakti Gawain-style visualizations of David Carson hack'n'slashing Arial — using a Swiss Army knife, no less — with all the infernal post-brutality of his creative disturbance and disturbed creativity. We then sailed without hesitation into the absurdities of analyzing Helvetica’s role in globalization and upcoming world blandness (China beware! Helvetica will invade you as silently and transparently as a sheet of rice paper!). And at the end of a perfect celebratory day, we positively affirmed à la Shakti, and solemnly whispered the energy of our affirmation unto the universal mind: “We appreciate Helvetica for getting us this far. We are now ready for release and await the arrival of the next head snatcher.” The great hype of Swisspalooza '07 prompted a look at Max Miedinger, the designer of Neue Haas Grotesk (later renamed to Helvetica). Surprisingly, what little biographical information available about Miedinger indicates that he was a typography consultant and type sales rep for the Haas foundry until 1956, after which time he was a freelance graphic designer — rather than the full-time type designer most Helvetica enthusiasts presume him to have been. It was under that freelance capacity that he was commissioned to design the regular and bold weights of Neue Haas Grotesk typeface. His role in designing Helvetica was never really trumpeted until long after the typeface attained global popularity. And, again surprisingly, Miedinger designed two more typefaces that seem to have been lost to the dust of film type history. One is called Pro Arte (1954), a very condensed Playbill-like slab serif that is similar to many of its genre. The other, made in 1964, is much more interesting. Its original name was Horizontal. Here it is, lest it becomes a Haas-been, presented to you in digital form by Canada Type under the name of its original designer, Miedinger, the Helvetica King. The original film face was a simple set of bold, panoramically wide caps and figures that give off a first impression of being an ultra wide Gothic incarnation of Microgramma. Upon a second look, they are clearly more than that. This face is a quirky, very non-Akzidental take on the vernacular, mostly an exercise in geometric modularity, but also includes some unconventional solutions to typical problems (like thinning the midline strokes across the board to minimize clogging in three-storey forms). This digital version introduces four new weights, ranging from Thin to Medium, alongside the bold original. The Miedinger package comes in all popular font formats, and supports Western, Central and Eastern European languages, as well as Esperanto, Maltese, Turkish and Celtic/Welsh. A few counter-less alternates are included in the fonts.

While researching the history of Onitsuka Tiger's branding and graphic design, I came across an odd, yet highly appealing piece of custom lettering on the company's ONICK ski boots from the 1970s. Reminiscent of aspects of the typeface Black-Out by Eli Carrico (released by my type foundry Wordshape), yet vertically compressed with razor-sliced counters and odd stencil element that makes up one of the legs of the "K", the ONICK lettering is a potential source for an intriguing modular font. I immediately thought of Ryoichi Tsunekawa as a potential collaborator to bring this piece of lettering to full-fledged life in the contemporary context. Based in Nagoya, Tsunekawa runs an independent type foundry called Dharma Type, including three specialized foundry sub-labels: Flat-It, devoted to display lettering; Prop-A-Ganda, a series of fonts inspired by and based on retro propaganda posters, movie posters, retail sign lettering & advertisements in the early 20th century; and Holiday Type, a series of decorative and retro scripts for holiday use. The past year has seen a flurry of notice of his work abroad, having been featured in both MyFonts' "Creative Characters" and YouWorkForThem's newsletter. As the work of most Japanese type designers is almost wholly unnoticed abroad, for Tsunekawa to be interviewed by two of the most popular type distribution companies in the world is definitely something beyond the norm. Perhaps it is because he works independently, or perhaps it is due to the charm and friendliness with which his typefaces are infused. Either way, this attention is both welcome and appreciated. Beyond mere charm, Tsunekawa's work is nuanced, detailed, and accessible due to its high level of finish. His fonts stand apart from his contemporaries in Latin typeface design in Japan due to his fascination with pop, vernacular and historical lettering from "non-pure" sources- whereas type designers like Kunihiko Okano and Akira Kobayashi have spent years analyzing the essence of Western letterform construction and unlocking the essence of Latin forms, Tsunekawa views surface and the awkward nature of his sources as being of value, as well. His irreverence for the formal doctrines of history imbue his typeface designs with a rugged inventiveness that would be missed by most- glyphs without source designs are guessed at and approximated, often in a manner wildly divergent from what Western eyes would assume. It is in these moments that I find sheer delight in Tsunekawa’s work and what make me most pleased to invite him aboard Neojaponisme and Onitsuka Tiger’s type development project. His assorted typefaces show an eclecticism in finish and as holistic systems- Tsunekawa's return email to me about the proposed type project showed a digital sketch of how a completed typeface family from the source lettering might look, rendered with an effortlessness and dedication to detail that belies a skilled craftsperson. Further development showed Tsunekawa’s rigor- the typeface in development rapidly featured glyphs ignored by many: a full set of fractions, Eastern European diacritics and accents, superior and inferior numerals, alternate characters, and custom ligatures - all designed with regulated, detailed spacing. ONICK is a typeface Tsunekawa should be proud of- an homage to a moment in history rendered in the absolute best fashion. We are proud to present it to the world! --Ian Lynam

It all started with a simple idea back in 1998: do a digital version of a "lost" 70's typeface, and make up the missing letters that were not present in the only available example Jeff Levine had to work with. Jeff wasn't yet doing his own digital font creation, so he hooked up with Brad Nelson who owns a small foundry called Brain Eaters Fonts. Together, they collaborated on "Action Is"- a freeware font named after the source of the type example. This was a title page for a commemorative photo album of images from the 60's TV music show "Where the Action Is", formerly hosted by Jeff's employer at the time, singer-writer-producer Steve Alaimo. The free font took off like a rocket, being released just at the peak of the 60’s/70’s retro craze in the late 1990’s, and it was EVERYWHERE! It showed up on TV shows, packaging and web design -- and was even spotted on signage used on the side of a major amusement resort’s retro-themed hotel. From that point on, Jeff kept getting requests for a version with a lower case. Although they shared the copyright in the freeware version, Brad Nelson gave Jeff his blessing to re-work and take Action Is into the realm of commercial type. Newly improved and re-released as Groovy Happening JNL, it became one of Jeff's better selling type designs. A simplified, yet similar font was issued called Groovy Summer JNL. Now, after about a decade, Jeff had decided to clean up the 3-D (drop shadow) version that was originally freeware with many minute design flaws and re-release it commercially. Groovy 3D Caps JNL is an all-caps, limited character set font which ties in well with the previous releases, yet retains itís 1960s-1970s era charm. The font flag art is courtesy of Barbara D. Berney and is used by permission.

In a not-too-distant future, humanity was ruled by a powerful, technologically advanced empire known as the Synod. The Synod controlled all forms of communication, and through this, they controlled the minds of the people. But a small group of rebels, known as the Resistance, had managed to evade the Synod's surveillance and formed a secret underground movement. They were determined to overthrow the Synod and restore freedom to the people. One of the Resistance's key members was a young artist named Trystån. He had a unique talent for creating powerful, visually striking posters that captured the spirit of the Resistance's message and spread it to the masses. Trystån had just completed a new poster, one that would be critical to the Resistance's plans. It depicted a single, outstretched hand holding a traditional Kimarii laser staff, with the words "Libertat!" emblazoned across the top. The poster featured a striking and powerful font that perfectly captured the spirit of the Resistance's message. The font was a combination of bold lines, elegant confident curves, and strong angles, giving it a sense of strength and determination. The lettering was large and prominent, filling up much of the poster, making it hard to miss. The letters seemed to be almost carved into the surface, giving the impression of something that was permanent and unshakable. The font was colored in dark shades, and was a sans serif typeface, that gives the message a very modern and current feel yet also feels vintage and retro, connecting the present with the struggles of the past. And with multilingual support, the typeface ensured that the message of the Resistance could be disseminated in every language on the planet. The background was minimalistic and in contrast, with a neutral palette, with just a hint of a sand-like color, representing the harsh conditions of the land that the people were fighting for their rights. The focus was all on the lettering, and how it conveyed the message. The poster was indeed a moving piece of graphic design, with its strong, striking font, and powerful imagery. It was clear that Trystån had put a lot of thought and care into its design. The poster, he hoped, would connect with people on an emotional level and inspire them to rise up against the oppression of the Synod Empire. The poster was set to be distributed at a major rally in the capital, where the Resistance was hoping to gain the support of thousands of citizens. But the Synod was not about to let this happen. They had long suspected the existence of the Resistance and had been working to infiltrate their ranks and discover their plans. The night before the rally, the Synod launched a surprise raid on the Resistance's hideout, capturing Trystån and several other members of the Resistance. Trystån was thrown into sand pits and interrogated by the Synod's top agents. They wanted to know everything about the Resistance's plans, including the details of the poster and the rally. Trystån, knowing the importance of the poster, refused to give in, even under the harshest of conditions. Meanwhile, the rally was drawing near, and the Resistance was desperate to get the poster out to the public. They knew that it was their only hope of gaining the support they needed to overthrow the Synod. They came up with a plan to smuggle the poster out of the hideout, but it would be a risky endeavor. As the rally began, the Resistance made their move, slipping the poster into the hands of the crowd. Trystån's poster had made a big impact in the rallies, and soon it became the symbol of hope for the resistance, and the visual representation of their struggle for freedom. The poster had become the catalyst for the revolution, and it would be remembered for many years to come as the symbol of the fight for freedom and democracy. The image of the outstretched hand holding the Kimarii laser staff struck a chord with the people, and they began to rise up against the Synod's oppression. Trystån, still locked away in the sand pits behind a stasis feild, could only imagine the scene unfolding outside. But he knew that his work had helped to spark a revolution, and he felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. The Resistance, with the help of the rally, was able to overthrow the empire, and Trystån was released, celebrated as a hero and hailed as the artist who helped to bring about the new era of freedom and democracy. The poster Trystån had designed had become the symbol of a new era, and it would hang in museums and public places as a reminder of the power of resistance and art, in the face of oppression. Features: regular and light weights numbers and punctuation multilingual characters