Type designers are crazy people. Not crazy in the sense that they think we are Napoleon, but in the sense that the sky can be falling, wars tearing the world apart, disasters splitting the very ground we walk on, plagues circling continents to pick victims randomly, yet we will still perform our ever optimistic task of making some little spot of the world more appealing to the human eye. We ought to be proud of ourselves, I believe. Optimism is hard to come by these days. Regardless of our own personal reasons for doing what we do, the very thing we do is in itself an act of optimism and belief in the inherent beauty that exists within humanity. As recently as ten years ago, I wouldn't have been able to choose the amazing obscure profession I now have, wouldn't have been able to be humbled by the history that falls into my hands and slides in front of my eyes every day, wouldn't have been able to live and work across previously impenetrable cultural lines as I do now, and wouldn't have been able to raise my glass of Malbeck wine to toast every type designer who was before me, is with me, and will be after me. As recently as ten years ago, I wouldn't have been able to mean these words as I wrote them: It’s a small world. Yes, it is a small world, and a wonderfully complex one too. With so much information drowning our senses by the minute, it has become difficult to find clear meaning in almost anything. Something throughout the day is bound to make us feel even smaller in this small world. Most of us find comfort in a routine. Some of us find extended families. But in the end we are all Eleanor Rigbys, lonely on the inside and waiting for a miracle to come. If a miracle can make the world small, another one can perhaps give us meaning. And sometimes a miracle happens for a split second, then gets buried until a crazy type designer finds it. I was on my honeymoon in New York City when I first stumbled upon the letters that eventually started this Affair. A simple, content tourist walking down the streets formerly unknown to me except through pop music and film references. Browsing the shops of the city that made Bob Dylan, Lou Reed, and a thousand other artists. Trying to chase away the tourist mentality, wondering what it would be like to actually live in the city of a billion tiny lights. Tourists don't go to libraries in foreign cities. So I walked into one. Two hours later I wasn't in New York anymore. I wasn't anywhere substantial. I was the crazy type designer at the apex of insanity. La La Land, alphabet heaven, curves and twirls and loops and swashes, ribbons and bows and naked letters. I'm probably not the very first person on this planet to be seduced into starting an Affair while on his honeymoon, but it is something to tease my better half about once in a while. To this day I can't decide if I actually found the worn book, or if the book itself called for me. Its spine was nothing special, sitting on a shelf, tightly flanked by similar spines on either side. Yet it was the only one I picked off that shelf. And I looked at only one page in it before walking to the photocopier and cheating it with an Argentine coin, since I didn't have the American quarter it wanted. That was the beginning. I am now writing this after the Affair is over. And it was an Affair to remember, to pull a phrase. Right now, long after I have drawn and digitized and tested this alphabet, and long after I saw what some of this generation’s type designers saw in it, I have the luxury to speculate on what Affair really is, what made me begin and finish it, what cultural expressions it has, and so on. But in all honesty it wasn't like that. Much like in my Ministry Script experience, I was a driven man, a lover walking the ledge, an infatuated student following the instructions of his teacher while seeing her as a perfect angel. I am not exaggerating when I say that the letters themselves told me how to extend them. I was exploited by an alphabet, and it felt great. Unlike my experience with Ministry Script, where the objective was to push the technology to its limits, this Affair felt like the most natural and casual sequence of processions in the world – my hand following the grid, the grid following what my hand had already done – a circle of creation contained in one square computer cell, then doing it all over again. By contrast, it was the lousiest feeling in the world when I finally reached the conclusion that the Affair was done. What would I do now? Would any commitment I make from now on constitute a betrayal of these past precious months? I'm largely over all that now, of course. I like to think I'm a better man now because of the experience. Affair is an enormous, intricately calligraphic OpenType font based on a 9x9 photocopy of a page from a 1950s lettering book. In any calligraphic font, the global parameters for developing the characters are usually quite volatile and hard to pin down, but in this case it was particularly difficult because the photocopy was too gray and the letters were of different sizes, very intertwined and scan-impossible. So finishing the first few characters in order to establish the global rhythm was quite a long process, after which the work became a unique soothing, numbing routine by which I will always remember this Affair. The result of all the work, at least to the eyes of this crazy designer, is 1950s American lettering with a very Argentine wrapper. My Affair is infused with the spirit of filete, dulce de leche, yerba mate, and Carlos Gardel. Upon finishing the font I was fortunate enough that a few of my colleagues, great type designers and probably much saner than I am, agreed to show me how they envision my Affair in action. The beauty they showed me makes me feel small and yearn for the world to be even smaller now – at least small enough so that my international colleagues and I can meet and exchange stories over a good parrilla. These people, whose kindness is very deserving of my gratitude, and whose beautiful art is very deserving of your appreciation, are in no particular order: Corey Holms, Mariano Lopez Hiriart, Xavier Dupré, Alejandro Ros, Rebecca Alaccari, Laura Meseguer, Neil Summerour, Eduardo Manso, and the Doma group. You can see how they envisioned using Affair in the section of this booklet entitled A Foreign Affair. The rest of this booklet contains all the obligatory technical details that should come with a font this massive. I hope this Affair can bring you as much peace and satisfaction as it brought me, and I hope it can help your imagination soar like mine did when I was doing my duty for beauty.

Hey! See Reina Neue in action here! INTRODUCTION When I designed the first Reina¹ circa 2010, I was at the dawn of my career as a type designer. The S{o}TA, short for the Society of Typographic Aficionados, described it as complex display typeface incorporating hairline flourishes to a nicely heavy romantic letterform². And it was like that; that’s what I was pursuing at that time since I was very passionate about ornaments and accolades of Calligraphy. Why? I felt that Typography, in general, needed more of them. These subtle flourishes could breathe life into letters. Maybe, I thought it was the only way I could propose something new into the field of type. However, after some years, I came across a very interesting quote: –Beautiful things don’t ask for attention– Wow! What did this mean? How could something be attractive if it’s not actually showing it. Could this be applied to my work? Sure. I think every type-designer goes through this process (aka crisis) regarding his or her career. At the beginning we love everything. We are kind of blind, we only see the big picture of a project. And that’s not because we are lazy. We actually can’t see the small mistakes nor the subtleties that make something simpler beautiful. We are not able. But, the small subtleties… They are actually everything: With experience, one puts more attention into the details and learns that every single decision in type has to be first meticulously planned. Here I am now, introducing a new Reina, because I felt there was a lot of it that could be improved, also the novelty of Variable Fonts caught my attention and I had to take that to my type library. THE FONT A thing of beauty is a joy forever Now, a decade later, I’m presenting Reina Neue. This font is not just an update of its predecessor: –A thing of beauty is a joy forever– is the first line of the poem ‘Endymion’ by John Keats, and despite the meaning of “beauty” may vary from person to person, and even from time to time (as read in the last paragraph), with Reina I always wanted to bring joy to the eye. In 2010, and now, in 2020. I believe the font is today much better in every aspect. It was entirely re-designed: Its shapes and morphology in general are much more clean and pure. The range of uses for it is now wider: While the old Reina consisted in just one weight, Reina Neue was converted into a big family of many weights, even with italics, smallcaps and layered styles. The idea behind the font, this kind of enveloping atmosphere made out of flourishes, is still here in the new Reina. This time easier to get amazing results due to the big amount of available alternates per glyph and also more loyal from a systemic point of view. However, and as read in the introduction -Beautiful things don’t ask for attention-, if none of the flourishes are activated the font will look very attractive anyway. Reina Neue is ready to be used in book covers, magazines, wedding cards, dazzling posters, storefronts, clothing, perfumes, wine labels and logos of all kind. Like it happened with the previous Reina, I hope this new font satisfies every design project around the world if used, and can be a joy forever. SOME INSTRUCTIONS Before choosing the right style for your project, hear my advice: -Reina Neue Display was meant to be used at big sizes. If you plan to print the font smaller than 72pt, I suggest using Reina Neue, not Display. Otherwise, if the font will be BIG or used on a digital platform, Reina Neue Display should be your choice. For even smaller sizes, use Reina Neue Small. This style was tested and printed in 12pt with nice results. (Note for variable fonts: Print them in outlines) -Reina Italic is not a slanted version of the roman, and this means some flourishes are different between each other. The Italic version has other kind of swirls. More conservative, in general. -All the styles of Reina Capitals have Small Capitals inside. -Reina Capitals Shine should be used/paired ONLY with Reina Capitals Black. The engraved feeling can be achieved if Reina Capitals Black and Reina Capitals Shine are used as layers, with the same word. Variable fonts instructions: -For more playful versions, choose Reina Neue VF, Reina Neue Italic VF or Reina Neue Capitals VF: With them you can adjust between 3 axes: Weight (will change the weight of the font) – Optic Size (will thicken/lighten the thin strokes and open/close the tracking) – Accolades (will modify the weight of the active flourishes). SOME VIDEOS OF REINA NEUE VF https://youtu.be/8cImmT5bpQM https://youtu.be/1icWfPmKAkg https://youtu.be/YC9GkJDL1a8 NOTES 1. The original Reina, from a decade ago: https://www.myfonts.com/fonts/argentina-lian-types/reina/ 2. In 2011, Reina received an honourable mention by S{o}TA. “Great skill is shown in the detailing, and an excellent feel for the correct flow of curves and displacement of stroke weight.” https://www.typesociety.org/catalyst/2011/ Reina was featured in the “Most Popular Fonts of the year” in MyFonts in 2011 https://www.myfonts.com/newsletters/sp/201201.html In 2012, the font was also selected in Tipos Latinos, the most prestigious competition of type in Latinoamerica. https://www.tiposlatinos.com/bienales/quinta-bienal-tl2012/resultados Also, chose as a “Favorite font of the year” in Typographica. https://typographica.org/typeface-reviews/reina/