I generally refer to our typefaces as ‘graphic’ rather than typographic. By that I mean their starting points are usually ways of constructing shapes and systems of shapes. As with other Alias typefaces, Sabre has stone and wood cut letterforms as a starting point. What is interesting about lettercutting is the connection between shape and material. These beautifully crafted letterforms have a particular sharpness which reflects, of course, how they were made. The idea of constructing letters from a kit of parts we first explored in early fonts Elephant and Factory. These are different in that they were very much grid-based, with a geometric structure. For Sabre I also had Fred Smeijers’ stencil construction drawings in mind. These show how a set of components can be the basis for a crafted, elegant typeface. Sabre is quite a loose interpretation of this idea. Sabre’s graphic shape means it works well at large sizes, with a dramatic, angular impact. Its aim is to be typographic enough to function for blocks of small-size text too.

The Englishman William Caslon punchcut many roman, italic, and non-Latin typefaces from 1720 until his death in 1766. At that time most types were being imported to England from Dutch sources, so Caslon was influenced by the characteristics of Dutch types. He did, however, achieve a level of craft that enabled his recognition as the first great English punchcutter. Caslon's roman became so popular that it was known as the script of kings, although on the other side of the political spectrum (and the ocean), the Americans used it for their Declaration of Independence in 1776. The original Caslon specimen sheets and punches have long provided a fertile source for the range of types bearing his name. Identifying characteristics of most Caslons include a cap A with a scooped-out apex; a cap C with two full serifs; and in the italic, a swashed lowercase v and w. Caslon's types have achieved legendary status among printers and typographers, and are considered safe, solid, and dependable. Caslon Antique was designed by Berne Nadall and brought out by the American type foundry Barnhart Bros & Spindler in 1896 to 1898. It doesn't bear any resemblance to Caslon, but has the quaint crudeness of what people imagine type looked like in the eighteenth century. Use Caslon Antique for that old-timey" effect in graphic designs. It looks best in large sizes for titles or initials. Caslon Black was designed by David Farey in the 1990s, and consists of one relatively narrow and very black weight. It is intended exclusively for titles or headlines. Caslon Black has a hint of the original Caslon lurking in the shadows of its shapes, but has taken on its own robust expression. Caslon Graphique was designed by Leslie Usherwood in the 1980s. The basic forms are close to the original Caslon, but this version has wide heavy forms with very high contrast between the hairline thin strokes and the fat main strokes. This precisely drawn and stylized Caslon has verve; it's ideal for headlines or initials in large sizes."

Part casual but legible. Part strict but playful. All handwriting. With 6 weights ranging from thin to black and slanted and back-slanted variants it is easy to find a suiting style for your project. A perfect font for invitations, notes, signage, children’s books and comics Left hand Path comes with a full set of extended latin glyphs and ligatures for double letters for a varied handwritten look and feel.

Lunatrix is a conceptual type face for futuristic or fantastic treatments. Ideal for suggesting strange new worlds of science-fiction, it can also evoke a land of fantasy or even hint at the occult. In its lighter weights, Lunatrix is well suited for applications such as posters, album covers, video games, and graphic novels, while in its heavier weights, it’s appropriate for titling and more complex type treatments.

This font is for gamers, game titles, for science fiction books and movies. Like hexagons fill and take space, in this font we attempted to employ hexagonal spatial typography. Sometimes it requires more rapid stroke direction change than in traditional typography. The same for Starfighter and for space quests – the competition and adventure will often require quick and sudden change of direction to succeed and survive. Have fun!

Born in the 70s Personal influences are unavoidable in type design and usually find their way through into finished fonts. At Fontsmith, one period in particular provides inspiration, according to FS Pimlico designer, Fernando Mello. “Jason and Phil have always known that I’m very into the visual language of the 70s. I know that Jason shares my love of the 70s and Phil will sometimes admit to being a fan, too. I think that’s the reason they were both so supportive in the development of this font. “And, of course, we all share an interest in good-humoured and intelligent design. We like to think it’s a Fontsmith characteristic.” Back from black FS Pimlico started in an unusual place: with a tubby, penguin-like lowercase “a” that Fernando Mello had been sketching. From “a” grew the rest of the alphabet – a bubbly, fat, friendly family with a brush-written quality that became FS Pimlico Black. The black weight certainly isn’t the normal starting point for creating a regular and bold weight, but Fernando pressed on, driven by a glut of influences: brush-writing; Letraset and early digital systems catalogues; the type of Herb Lubalin and Tony di Spigna; 70s clothes and vinyl; and 70s revival disco nights in London’s Pimlico and Vauxhall. Natural or flourished Not often do fonts come along that seem to span the ages. FS Pimlico is at home in an office environment providing a fresh clear identity in communications or providing text that’s clear and easy to read. But it likes to party, too, 70s style. With the OpenType features switched on, a designer can totally change the look of their work, and create point-of-sale, headlines and titles that stand out and get noticed.

Born in the 70s Personal influences are unavoidable in type design and usually find their way through into finished fonts. At Fontsmith, one period in particular provides inspiration, according to FS Pimlico designer, Fernando Mello. “Jason and Phil have always known that I’m very into the visual language of the 70s. I know that Jason shares my love of the 70s and Phil will sometimes admit to being a fan, too. I think that’s the reason they were both so supportive in the development of this font. “And, of course, we all share an interest in good-humoured and intelligent design. We like to think it’s a Fontsmith characteristic.” Back from black FS Pimlico started in an unusual place: with a tubby, penguin-like lowercase “a” that Fernando Mello had been sketching. From “a” grew the rest of the alphabet – a bubbly, fat, friendly family with a brush-written quality that became FS Pimlico Black. The black weight certainly isn’t the normal starting point for creating a regular and bold weight, but Fernando pressed on, driven by a glut of influences: brush-writing; Letraset and early digital systems catalogues; the type of Herb Lubalin and Tony di Spigna; 70s clothes and vinyl; and 70s revival disco nights in London’s Pimlico and Vauxhall. Natural or flourished Not often do fonts come along that seem to span the ages. FS Pimlico is at home in an office environment providing a fresh clear identity in communications or providing text that’s clear and easy to read. But it likes to party, too, 70s style. With the OpenType features switched on, a designer can totally change the look of their work, and create point-of-sale, headlines and titles that stand out and get noticed.

Geometric font inspired by shop signs in 4 styles Anisette has sprouted as a way to test some ideas of designs. It has started with a simple line construction (not outlines as usual) that can be easily expanded and condensed in its width in Illustrator. Subsequently, this principle of multiple widths and extreme weights permitted to Jean François Porchez to have a better understanding with the limitations associated with the use of MultipleMaster to create intermediate font weights. Anisette built around the idea of two widths capitals can be described as a geometric sanserif typeface influenced by the 30s and the Art Deco movement. Its design relies on multiple sources, from Banjo through Cassandre posters, but especially lettering of Paul Iribe. In France, at that time, the Art Deco spirit is mainly capitals. Gérard Blanchard has pointed to Jean Francois that Art Nouveau typefaces designed by Bellery-Desfontaines was featured before the Banjo with this principle of two widths capitals. The complementarity between the two typefaces are these wide capitals mixed with narrow capitals for the Anisette while the Anisette Petite – in its latest version proposes capitals on a square proportions, intermediate between the two others sets. Of course, the Anisette Petite fonts also includes lowercases too. Anisette Petite, a geometric font inspired by shop signs in 4 styles So, when Jean François Porchez has decided to create lowercases the story became more complicated. His stylistic references couldn’t be restricted anymore to the French Art-déco period but to the shop signs present in our cities throughout the twentieth century. These signs, lettering pieces aren’t the typical foundry typefaces. Simply because the influences of these painted letters are different, not directly connected to foundry roots which generally follow typography history. The outcome is a palette of slightly strange shapes, without strictly not following geometrical, mechanical and historical principles such as those that typically appear in typefaces marketed by foundries. As an example, the Anisette Petite r starts with a small and visible sort of apex that no other similar glyphs such as n or m feature, but present at the end of the l and y. The famous g loop is actually inspired by Chancery scripts, which has nothing to do with the lettering. The goal is of course to mix forms without direct reports, in order to properly celebrate this lettering spirit. This is why the e almost finishes horizontally as the Rotis – and the top a which must logically follow this principle and is drawn more round-curly. This weird choice seemed so odd to its designer that he shared his doubts and asked for advise to Jeremy Tankard who immediately was reassuring: “Oddly, your new top a is fine, it brings roundness to the typeface, when the previous pushes towards Anisette Petite to unwanted austerity.” The Anisette Petite, since its early days, is a mixture of non-consistent but charming shapes. Anisette, an Art Déco typeface Anisette Petite Club des directeurs artistiques, 46e palmarès Bukva:raz 2001

Rian Hughes’ 15th collection of fonts, “112 Hours”, is entirely dedicated to numbers. Culled from a myriad of sources – clock faces, tickets, watches house numbers – it is an eclectic and wide-ranging set. Each font contains only numerals and related punctuation – no letters. A new book has been designed by Hughes to show the collection, and includes sample settings, complete character sets, source material and an introduction. This is available print-to-order on Blurb in paperback and hardback: http://www.blurb.com/b/5539073-112-hours-hardback http://www.blurb.com/b/5539045-112-hours-paperback From the introduction: The idea for this, the fifteenth Device Fonts collection, began when I came across an online auction site dedicated to antique clocks. I was mesmerized by the inventive and bizarre numerals on their faces. Shorn of the need to extend the internal logic of a typeface through the entire alphabet, the designers of these treasures were free to explore interesting forms and shapes that would otherwise be denied them. Given this horological starting point, I decided to produce 12 fonts, each featuring just the numbers from 1 to 12 and, where appropriate, a small set of supporting characters — in most cases, the international currency symbols, a colon, full stop, hyphen, slash and the number sign. 10, 11 and 12 I opted to place in the capital A, B and C slots. Each font is shown in its entirety here. I soon passed 12, so the next logical finish line was 24. Like a typographic Jack Bauer, I soon passed that too -— the more I researched, the more I came across interesting and unique examples that insisted on digitization, or that inspired me to explore some new design direction. The sources broadened to include tickets, numbering machines, ecclesiastical brass plates and more. Though not derived from clock faces, I opted to keep the 1-12 conceit for consistency, which allowed me to design what are effectively numerical ligatures. I finally concluded one hundred fonts over my original estimate at 112. Even though it’s not strictly divisible by 12, the number has a certain symmetry, I reasoned, and was as good a place as any to round off the project. An overview reveals a broad range that nonetheless fall into several loose categories. There are fairly faithful revivals, only diverging from their source material to even out inconsistencies and regularize weighting or shape to make them more functional in a modern context; designs taken directly from the source material, preserving all the inky grit and character of the original; designs that are loosely based on a couple of numbers from the source material but diverge dramatically for reasons of improved aesthetics or mere whim; and entirely new designs with no historical precedent. As projects like this evolve (and, to be frank, get out of hand), they can take you in directions and to places you didn’t envisage when you first set out. Along the way, I corresponded with experts in railway livery, and now know about the history of cab side and smokebox plates; I travelled to the Musée de l’imprimerie in Nantes, France, to examine their numbering machines; I photographed house numbers in Paris, Florence, Venice, Amsterdam and here in the UK; I delved into my collection of tickets, passes and printed ephemera; I visited the Science Museum in London, the Royal Signals Museum in Dorset, and the Museum of London to source early adding machines, war-time telegraphs and post-war ration books. I photographed watches at Worthing Museum, weighing scales large enough to stand on in a Brick Lane pub, and digital station clocks at Baker Street tube station. I went to the London Under-ground archive at Acton Depot, where you can see all manner of vintage enamel signs and woodblock type; I photographed grocer’s stalls in East End street markets; I dug out old clocks I recalled from childhood at my parents’ place, examined old manual typewriters and cash tills, and crouched down with a torch to look at my electricity meter. I found out that Jane Fonda kicked a policeman, and unusually for someone with a lifelong aversion to sport, picked up some horse-racing jargon. I share some of that research here. In many cases I have not been slavish about staying close to the source material if I didn’t think it warranted it, so a close comparison will reveal differences. These changes could be made for aesthetic reasons, functional reasons (the originals didn’t need to be set in any combination, for example), or just reasons of personal taste. Where reference for the additional characters were not available — which was always the case with fonts derived from clock faces — I have endeavored to design them in a sympathetic style. I may even extend some of these to the full alphabet in the future. If I do, these number-only fonts could be considered as experimental design exercises: forays into form to probe interesting new graphic possibilities.