typography – Scannerlicker

On Logotype Calibration

0. Introduction

So, yeah, I’m a type designer. And there are numerous situations where I end up stating that “I make fonts”, so that people can have an idea about what I do for a living.

But drawing letters and packing them into working fonts is just a slice of it: I very often find myself fixing other peoples designs. And while it might seem obvious that I would be fixing other people’s typefaces (it has happened on ocasion, though, but when other type designers ask me to help them it gets closer to a mentorship than me doing the designing work), I end up doing logotype calibrations.

1. Logotype Calibration?

Isn’t it just redesign?

“Just”. As if redesigning isn’t a lot of work. But then again, what is logotype calibration, anyway?

Imagine this situation: you’re working in a branding project and, as such, you end up with a logotype. But something’s off — the form is wonky, it doesn’t work with the typefaces you use, it doesn’t survive small sizes and so on — this is where I usually come in.

If you want to check out the process, here’s a video where I go through most of the process of calibrating a logotype (size-specific calibrations were discarded here):

Note: Thanks to Both Bou for agreeing on letting me use his work for the video!

2. When Do I Need My Logotype Calibrated?

Always.

— Yeah, alright, Fábio, nice self-promotion move. [sarcasm]
— Thanks. [sarcasm]

But seriously, always. Or better, there’s only one situation when you don’t need your logotype calibrated: when you don’t have one.

And this doesn’t mean you need to hire someone to do that gig for you: with practise, knowledge and time, anyone can make an impeccable job.

Still, let’s suppose that you’re hiring someone to do that for you. When should you call them on board? There are two optimal situations that makes this smooth sailing:

Your logo is done, but could be better and you don’t know how nor why;
You need to fine-tune it to several applications (sizes, media and such).

3. Not My Logo

I’m a strong believer that, in this type of gig, I have to respect the designer/studio’s work and take it as not being my own. Any alteration has to be done within reason and not by whim:

I’m looking at the visually applied results of a brand strategy, not at the brand strategy itself;
The designer/studio has it own pipeline and process and I shouldn’t interfere with that (a small detail change can hijack and stall the whole branding project);
It’s a calibration job, not a logotype design job.

Although I take some liberties, the need to respect what was given to me is always in the back of my mind. I don’t want to be creative about it, someone already has done that.

The thing is that someone is trusting me their months-long work to make it better. Someone has put a lot of care into this, probably has time and budget constraints and this is, most likely, a tiny (but very central) fragment of a much larger project.

4. Fine-tunning Form

Form is the singlemost important element in Design.

We need to adapt forms to whatever use and perceptual situation we decide to. So, though it seems like I’m stating the obvious, the whole process of calibration is form correction and/or optimization.

Since examples work great, here’s a mini case study: the Swedish studio Identity Works! hired me to correct a logotype for Hotel At Six, in Stockholm — which led to a custom typeface, but that’s a story for some other time —, where the first step was to correct the form and composition in general, fixing curve smoothness, intersections, spacing, stroke width and some other minor details. Have a look:

Fig. 1: Left — the logo Identity Works! sent me; Right — the corrected version.

As you can see from the image above, they sent me a pretty well developed logotype that pretty close to what it should be.

Still, there was a back-and-forth discussion with the project’s Art Director (props to Nuno Coelho, he was always so nice and dilligent), testing versions of small details, a lot of time spent looking through a magnifying lens and a completely non-eco-friendly waste of paper.

So, the first step was to strive for a harmonious shape, with the concern of making it to visually flow smoothly. The most obvious detail is the t‘s bottom-most part, that was too shy in the original. But, for example, the S was too lumpy, out of being too geometric:

Fig. 2: Left — Original S; Right — Corrected S.

The greater amount of time in the development of this project was to get the inktraps just right. Gladly, this was a size-specific design and I could test the final media with satisfactory accuracy, so the stroke widths, intersections and curves were tweaked until I couldn’t make it better. The result was this assymetrical beauty:

Fig. 3: Left — Original X intersection (close-up); Right — Corrected X intersection (close-up).

Working with such thin lines, on the threshold of being ignored by the rasterizer, is a challenge. It’s, in fact, a crash-course on microtweaking, where 1/1000 nudges make a difference. Stroke modulation (yes, it has modulation) has to be perfect, since any difference in tension surfaces immediatly. Visual mass is so little that is unforgiving — which means this project was really fun for me.

5. Applications

In a branding strategy, a logotype can appear in a wide array of media and sizes, through a wide array of processes. Digital and print are vague terms that encapsulate formats, rasterizers, printing methods, papers, software, screens and so on. The list is endless.

To predeterminate as much of these as possible and to deliver context-specific solutions is key to making logotype calibrations. And there will always be variation, always.

Trying to achieve perfect consistency in applications is to aspire to make order out of chaos. Still, this is the goal.

And, in spite of all the technical constraints and real-world entropy — and with the notion that flawlessness is a myth —, any approximation is welcome.

A logotype is a set of graphic pieces, each one of them context-specific.

6. Conclusion

I hope you’ve enjoyed this article! If so, please share it with your folks!

You can also subscribe to the newsletter below, if you want to keep track with what is going on.

And if you’re wondering about talking to me about it, you can always say hi!

Until next time!

Typecooking: Why I Started Doing Daily Exercises

Edit: Since the release of this article, a couple of things changed: the project is now called Typerobics and it has a dedicated microsite!

If you’ve been paying attention to my Facebook or Twitter feeds (or even Behance, but not as much up-to-date), you’ve certainly noticed that I’ve been posting a custom lettered word (almost) daily.

And people have been asking why I started doing so, and this article is about just that.

0. Introduction

OK, first things first: before I tell you why, let me tell you how I ended up doing it.

This is a shameless copy of an idea. Not that it’s something new, since daily exercises are as old as art. But to be clear, Oscar Guerrero Cañizares, the super talented man behind Sumotype Foundry (profile here) has been doing it for a long time; and I’ve been checking his stuff for an equivalent while.

So, if you’re expect an incredibly interesting story, worthy of a novel, here you go: I asked him if I could copy the idea and he said yes.

This introductory story serves two purposes: first of all, check his work, since he’s a skilled type designer and a very nice guy, out of our interactions. Second, Oscar, thank you!

People have also been asking how to I pick the words and how do I get a briefing:

Word picking: I use this random word generator, and sometimes, if I get stuck, I cheat with this Scrabble solver. Since I try to keep every exercise down from 40 minutes (unless I’m trying out a style that I’m not comfortable with), so I end up cheating. There you go: I’m human.
Briefing: This wildly varies, but I can reduce this to two paths: either I use TypeCooker to randomly generate a briefing (hence the name) or I draw whatever I want to.

With this cleared out, let’s onto the whys, meaning, the reason of this article.

**1. Improving Fast vs. Font Development Takes An Awful Long Time**

For me, this is the main reason. Font developing is so time consuming (some times it takes years to develop a family [I’ve lost count of how many times I redesigned something, just to get it right]), that it makes the process of exploring letterforms incredibly slow. Sure, you have to make a lot of fonts to tackle and learn about font tech issues, but the drawing process (technically speaking) isn’t that complex at all: Bézier curves, metrics and kerning.

Understanding form and becoming dexterous with it, however, it’s a whole different league; and we only improve that by constantly drawing, specially with variety.

Font developing may stall you from improving your formal skills, since you get to focus on the same thing for ages. In these exercises it’s just a word, not a gazillion glyphs across a myriad of axis, and you’re adapting your brain to formal and spacing skills in a variety of different shapes.

And, when you go back to font development, you get blazing fast at the drawing part (which is most of it, really), since you’ve solved some routine problems while practising, as well as improved your drawing technique.

2. Developing The Inner Do-It-All

This comes in the sequence of the previous section. As type designer or letterer, you want to tame as many styles as you can: you never know what people will ask you, right? Besides, how amazing would it be to sit down and confidently draw anything that comes to mind? Well, that comes with practice.

I try to challenge myself in these exercises. Whether with a style that I’m pretty bad at or by using a stop-watch, for example.

In Portugal, we have an expression for this: derusting the joints. If you’re not used to use your legs, the get rusted. So when you start using them again, it’s hard; but, in time and perseverance, it gets easier and easier – by moving, you scrap the rust out of your joints. Metaphorically, you only develop a skill by doing it over and over again, but you need that initial push before it gets easy.

3. Cheat, cheat, cheat

Oh, the pleasure of cheating! Lazy people, rejoice!

Joking aside, cheating is actually very useful. While developing a font family, the perfectionism light is on all the time. And this puts you (well, at least me) in a mental state where you’re over-concerned about… everything. Apart from taking some of the pleasure away, this hyper-focus refrains you from thinking out of the box, and so, from actually finding a simpler solution to the problem.

And the repetition involved in a huge amount of glyphs contributes to this.

4. Sharing Dumbness Is A Good Way To Get Schooled

Of course, these quick drawings have flaws. And when you post what you’ve done, people will pinpoint those flaws. Scary? Nope. Great? You bet.

By sharing with others, people will guide you on where to look and, with luck, what to do. I like to think that whatever I’m having a problem with, someone has already solved it; so sharing and letting people see what you do, even if it’s just an exercise, you’re actually putting yourself available to learn and improve, by the help of others.

As you saw above (and if you checked the Youtube channel) I also did some process videos (more will come, keep an eye out!). Aside from the compliments (these are great, don’t get me wrong), the constructive critiques are actually the best part, even if people think that you’re being dumb.

Well, if they think so, they’re probably right. But this can be a good thing, since a lot of people who think you’re dumb try to prove that you’re being dumb, which means that they’ll explain a easier way to do the same thing.

5. The Survival Of The Fittest Approach

Everyday, I get a started font.

One of the most frequent questions about my work is how I get ideas for typefaces. Well, I start a lot of them and, eventually, I end up wanting to develop one of the doodles/sketches into a full family.

Let’s say that 95% (or more) of what I’ve started will never end up as a ready-to-ship typeface. At the same time, I’ll never end up without something to pursue. And if the desire to finish stuff is the source of longevity, man, I’m immortal.

6. It Builds Your Portfolio, The Fast Way

This one is a no-brainer. In a week, you get 5 to 7 pieces of work to show. In a month, 20 to 30 (or 31. Or 28. Damn you, February!). In a year, 260 to 365. Do I need to say more?

7. It Builds Your Audience

The algorithm that sticks Facebook pages’ posts onto subscribers walls is terrible. Well, it’s awesome for Facebook, since I imagine that it’s a splendid source of revenue, but for someone who wants to see his own stuff seen by others, it’s terrible. Unless you pay for exposure, most (and with most I mean 99% of the people) of the people will only see it if they visit your page.

Since I started doing this thing, there are people of consistently come every day to check it out. And don’t get me wrong: they’re not friends of mine on Facebook.

And these people who come everyday (or very often) are your biggest asset in word-of-mouth. Heck, they’re becoming experts about what you do! So, who better to talk about your work?

By the way: guys, you spoil me everyday, I’m so grateful for such dedication, you guys are my motivators! Thank you, from the heart!

Soppiness aside, giving people something they value on a regular basis is the core of building a following. And having a following that respects what you do does several things:

Keeps you motivated: because you know people expect something from you, while positively reinforcing you with their attention;
Provide feedback: which, as we discussed in §4, can be a way to learn and develop skills;
Validates you in the market: a prospecting client can easily find if you have a following. So, having the support of your peers is even better, since other people are actually telling that you know what you’re doing.

8. Prospecting Clients Have A Better Idea Of Your Skills

Simply because you have more to show, more recognition from your peers, in a wide variety of styles and, due to practise, better quality. What client doesn’t want this?

This can even work as a Pantone chart for letterists and type designers, but instead of colors, you get styles. And, the best part, is that you don’t even have to make mockups so your client knows what you’re talking about: it’s already done.

Prospecting clients have an immediate array of styles available to pick from, even before he decides to say a word to you. Win-win.

9. Wrapping Up

As you might have noticed, I’ve became a huge advocate of daily exercises. And although I wrote this through the lens of my own experience, these reasons and practises are extensible to other areas beyond type design and/or lettering.

I hope that you had a good time reading this and, if so, feel free to share the articles in the buttons below!

See you next article!

On Legibility – In Typography And Type Design

If you’re following me on Facebook, you probably know that I’ve recently asked for suggestions on what should I write about. Michał Jarociński suggested that I should do something about legibility, wayfinding and signage.

Curiously enough, not so long ago, I’ve started a thread on Typophile (and a discussion on Reddit’s Typography board) about the function/use of serifs, and, to my surprise, it escalated very quickly to a derby between serif and sans-serif type and which one was the most legible: but I’ll get back to you on this, in a bit.

But this led me to Kevin Larson, Microsoft’s researcher on reading, who was kind enough to exchange some e-mails with me, happily providing me some papers on the matter.

So, since you now know the path leading here, I hope provide you with some insightful knowledge about legibility — or what makes type more legible —, in order to help you improve your type designs (if you’re a type designer or letterer) or to help you refine your typeface selection process (if you’re a graphic designer).

And cabbages. Low in fat.

Without further ado, here’s the juice:

1. Letter, Word, Paragraph

First of all, it should be a no-brainer that, when we talk about rapid-letter recognition, there are multiple levels of the letters’ context (or, let’s say, relationship between other letters) that have an effect on how we recognize letter-forms.

So, as you might have wondered, a single letter should be recognized faster than one within a word. And its position in the word affects it’s recognition. And leading has an effect on this too.

Edit: Hrant Papazian has already provided some insights in my first article about Bézier Curves, and he did it again.

In spite of the previous statement, reading is a way more complex event than simple letter-by-letter construction. The bouma model suggests that we read through clusters of letters and only go through the letter-by-letter process in case of uncertainty.

I sympathize with this idea because it’s more economic, brain processing wise. To keep it simple, while reading, factors like grammar, word expectancy, word form and so on, are not to be excluded when we think about the reading experience.

*edit end*

Keep also in mind that, by definition, legibility is not the same as readability, although, in practical terms, they are particular focus lenses of the same thing. We’ll talk primarily about legibility (the formal properties of a glyph that improve their instant recognition), but it would be a major fault not to mention readability issues (such as spacing, texture and so on).

Edit: This kind of research is still on its infancy, so keep in mind that these suggestions are a mix of what has been researched, empirical experience and my own opinions on the matter.

At the same time, the parallel-letterwise model that you can find in the third reference is still disputed, and very brightly, by Papazian, in Typo13.

*edit end*

But how to improve this? Well, I’d like to talk about something else, first.

2. Familiarity

I have a memory of when I started tying my shoes, without an adult to help me out: I remember being the the kindergarten’s corridor, puzzled, trying to figure out how to do a neat bow and how the laces could make such form. It took me a while, I guess. I remember it as being a challenging task, since I was alone (yes, you could be alone in kindergarten, in the 80’s [well, at least here in Portugal]), and I was trying my best. I don’t even know if I’ve managed to do it properly, I just remember that I did something with it and that it filled me with proud.

Today, I don’t even remember when I tied my sneakers.

It’s part of our cognitive process to forget that we know how to do something: we end up just doing it without thinking. That’s why we can talk and write, for example, without a colossal effort to construct meaning, spelling, grammar and so on.

And the same applies to reading, i.e., recognizing letters. The more we are exposed to a certain typeface and the more we interact with it, the easier it is to rapidly recognize it.

I know this sounds like I’m stating the obvious, but consider the implications that this has on any study about legibility. Imagine gender differences on this matter. Cultural differences.

So, we should be very careful to engage extrapolations on legibility and readability, because this factor alone can sabotage our conclusions, so address this article (and others) with a critical mind.

Edit: Kevin Larson directed my attention to an issue regarding familiarity: even though we read best with typefaces we know best, we’ll do just fine at reading well-designed brand new typefaces. *edit end*

But before you go and use Helvetica on everything from now on, please read along. *wink*

3. Spacing & Kerning

As was implied in §1, the amount of white space around to a letter influences it’s legibility, thus having an impact on readability.

But what effect? Well, if the tracking is too tight, letters will clutter and we might mistaken two or more character for another one; if too loose, we might have a hard time figuring out if a character is in a word or not.

Here, have a look:

As you can see in this example, in the first row, it wouldn’t be odd to mistaken the c and the l as being a d. And even by knowing that it’s the same word, probably you slowed down while reading the last line.

Spacing should be set to produce an even rhythm throughout the texture; altering this rhythm produces a reading experience similar to a ride in a car that has a choked engine, prone to hiccups.

3.1 Size-specific Spacing

Loosening the tracking slightly is not always a bad thing to do. In fact, in order to improve legibility and readability, it’s a good practice to open the tracking as you go down or/and if you’re working with very small resolutions.

Here’s a quick test to see how legibility survives deterioration: Gaussian Blur + Threshold.

As you can see in the image, the top-right word is spaced to loosely for such a big size; but its reduction (bottom-right) keeps a better quality of letter-recognition.

As for tight tracking in big sizes (you were wondering about it, weren’t you?), it’s sort of a different case. Is not as damaging, of course, since there’s more room for outlining the letter with the eyes, but it’s not actually an improvement; just more tolerable.

Still, since big type takes more room, it’s tempting to reduce the tracking: it’s OK, but don’t go wild with it; you’ll know some more tricks to go around this as you read along. And cabbages.

4. x-height And Vertical Proportions

It’s a widespread idea that a big x-height improves legibility/readability, but I have to say that this idea is an over-simplification. Not wrong, but a distortion by simplification, nonetheless.

Imagine that you’re designing a newspaper. Or a typeface family for a newspaper, same story. While it’s desirable to have a large x-height in the text typeface, it’s kind of irrelevant to do the same for the headline cut, right?

Now imagine that a newspaper contacts you to tweak their typeface. They want to keep the same char count, the same number of lines, but they feel that their text typeface is too small. Increasing the x-height seems logical.

But here’s the drill: the ascenders and the descenders, in proportion, as well as the caps, will shorten, considering that you want to keep your line-gap free from clutter. And you should be careful with this because…

4.1 Ascender And Descender Retraction Takes A Toll

… on cabbages. Er… I mean, on legibility and readability.

Consider the following animation:

As the x-height increases, the Futura-like d slowly starts to resemble a single-story lowercase a, increasing the probability of mixing those two.

And be aware that, since we scan words from their top, we leave the bottom of the words to a more peripheral part of our focus; this means that the descenders should be slightly longer than the ascenders.

Or, as Kevin Larson, via e-mail, has told me:

“We found in our studies of Sitka that a large x-height came with a trade-off; While the large size helped the neutral height letters, it hurt the ascending and descending letters.”

Note: let me remind you that this is not an absolute truth – in §6 we’ll cover another aspect that can compensate this retraction: it’s always a compromise of multiple factors.

5. Counters

Open those counters!

This is actually one of the beefs I have with Helvetica, so you can imagine my surprise when Apple chose it as it’s UI font. But my jaw dropped when Apple stated the following:

In OS X Yosemite, fonts have been refined systemwide to be more legible and consistent across the Mac experience.

More legible? Seems like I missed a breakthrough research paper that contradicts centuries of type production. *long live sarcasm!*

But lets give the benefit of the doubt and round our quick Gaussian Blur + Threshold test, and pair Helvetica with another UI font: Microsoft’s Segoe UI (because it’s Apple’s main competitor and has a bigger counter aperture).

Here’s Helvetica:

And here’s Segoe UI:

If you’re still not convinced, step away from you computer and squint your eyes, shake your head, look away and back for a glimpse, decrease your monitor’s brightness, print it in a bad inkjet printer at a very small size and see which one performs better.

So, for low road mortality and low carbon-emission sake, keep Helvetica out of roadsigns. And cellphones – because no matter how stupid it is to text and drive, people will keep on doing it. Or get hit by a car while crossing a street without looking away from their cellphone, who knows.

Cabbages don’t cross the road staring at their cellphone.

6. Character Variation

This is one of the most important aspects of type design, regarding legibility.

While this is somewhat self-explanatory, here’s the rule of thumb:

The more distinct the glyphs are, the better.

It’s harder to tell twins apart, even though they have differences. So, as you can see in the images in §5, it’s easy to mistaken characters if they’re formally too similar.

Edit: Although obvious, this has an effect on the word level: glyph variation also increases variation in the word form, reducing ambiguity. *edit end*

But try not to build a Frankenfont: changing letterforms too radically, style-wise, creates confusion, slowing fast-recognition big time. And in the same idea, be sensitive about the amount of elements added to letterforms, since it might produce cluttering.

6.1 Serif versus Sans-serif

Remember, in the introduction, where I mentioned the discussions about serif’s functions on Typophile and Reddit that ended up in a derby between serif and sans-serif type? Well, now we have enough information to discuss this properly.

So, the answer to the question Which one is more readable, serif of sans-serif type?, the answer is No.

Following the motto there are no bad answers, only bad questions, this question is one of the bad ones. Serifs don’t automatically make type more legible (although they can help with character variation) and sans-serif simplicity is not always a plus.

It’s always a contextual matter and we have no empirical evidence that suggest the superiority of one of the styles.

So, why are sans-serifs almost universally used in signage and serifs in books? The answer is: available space and clichés.

Don’t get me wrong: clichés are a good thing, in this subject. If we’re aiming for legibility/readability, not clashing with people’s expectations is a good thing: we don’t want people crashing in the highway because a sign is set in Sabon, neither we want to read a romantic novel set in Comic Sans (although better than in Helvetica). *now I’m imagining the interwebs going rage on me!*

As for available space, serifs take more space than sans-serifs. Simple. And we want street signs to have big type on it, so we can read them from afar; in the same logic, in small type and longer lines of text, sans-serif create a kind of moiré effect in the texture, which is undesirable, since it requires effort.

Edit: And type size and word amount! I’m sorry for leaving this one out (props to Hrant Papazian, again)!

While we’re driving, it’s logical that a special focus on letter-by-letter recognition is paramount. Type is huge, and only one or two words are set per line, so it’s fast enough to decipher form and meaning.

But while reading a book, where there are a lot of words in a texture and type is set in a much shorter viewing arc, the bouma model fits best.

So serifs, in large chunks of text, have several advantages over sans: letters are “fused” together, the word shape has variety, white-space vs. rythym has diversity, and so on.

But I might be wrong.

*edit end*

7. Width

This is another size-specific subject, under the condition of legibility improvement; I mean, if we set aside aesthetic considerations, some width adjustments can help with legibility.

Lets say that every time that you need to move your head (while looking at large type) or move it forward (in the case of tiny type), glyph width can help. With this said, we can conclude that small type is more welcoming of wide glyphs, while big type is more welcoming to condensed ones; although the case where the latter most benefits is when really, really large type is used and at a very short viewing arc.

And this leads us to…

8. Weight & Contrast

As you might have guessed by now, finer details don’t survive deterioration.

And if you think that this is a technological problem, such as pixel density or printer resolution, think again.

Imagine the following scenario: you have three different size circles and you want them to have the same stroke width, like this:

If I asked you to scale the circles to the same size, would they have the same stroke width? Of course not.

With a font, the exact opposite happens: if you have three circles with the same stroke width and scale them to different sizes, what happens?

If you think that I’m stating the obvious, man, I’m with you. But as simple as this might seem, it’s a good reminder of the kind of compensation necessary for different type sizes and a good starting point for size-specific designs.

In fact, I usually start a typeface by printing a bunch of circles and squares with different stroke widths at different point sizes, just to see how thin can it bear. And I do it again once I start adapting it to smaller and bigger sizes.

So, as a rule of thumb:

The smaller you get, the lesser should the contrast be.

But this doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t pay attention to the thicker parts of your strokes; in fact, you should thicken them even a bit further.

It’s like having a stroke around your design: comparing the thicks and thins, the thinner parts will thicken more in proportion than the thicks.

To illustrate this idea, remember the image that opened this section? Here’s how it looks if we scale the type to the same size:

9. Conclusion

I hope that you’ve enjoyed the article and the cabbages!

I’d like to thank Michał Jarociński, for the suggestion, Kevin Larson and Hrant Papazian for the helping hand and you, for your attention!

So, if you found this helpful, please be so kind share the article with your friends or go shopping for some fonts, so I can keep writing these!

And don’t forget to check the Further Reading and References section, below: there’s more awesome stuff there!

Cheers to you!

The Art Of Eyeballing – Part IV: The Stroke (Optics)

Index

Introduction | Learning To See | Overshooting | The Stroke: Optics

This is the first article of three, in our series, to talk about the stroke.

We briefly introduced the idea (in the previous article) that the stroke width has an effect on perception and, for this reason, should be adjusted. So, this article is just about that: optical adjustments to stroke.

May I state it right now: this is not rocket science and the more elaborated considerations about stroke (such as modulation, for example) will be covered in the next articles. For now, we want to approach a very simple case – a monoline construction – and try to achieve balance.

And without further ado (and because I’m starting to feel way to serious while writing this), let’s skip to the good part.

1. Horizontal vs. Vertical

Let’s get right to it: in the image above, which are the thickest strokes? Vertical or horizontal? Take your time. Horizontal, right?

If you thought “they’re equal”, you’re right. But do they seem equal? To me, they don’t. And to most people, they also don’t.

But for many years, I simply trusted the computer. And, as always, the computer was right, so who was I to judge mathematical perfection? Well, this is about perceptual balance, not the first. Again, trust your eyes.

And here’s a correction (with horizontal strokes being about 1% thinner than the vertical ones):

But why does this happen? In honesty, I don’t really know, although I have some theories about it:

We have two eyes, distributed horizontally, making our area of eyesight wider than taller; and this might add relevance to vertically distributed elements;
In type, we have millennia of broadnib and flat brush writing, usually with 30 to 40º angle from an horizontal position, making horizontal strokes wider than vertical ones. But again, this could be due to a perception/optical/neurological phenomena.

If you’re wondering about how this works in typefaces, have a look here:

2. Orthogonal vs. Diagonal

Consider the following example:

Again, all the 3 lines have exactly the same stroke width. We already talked about how to compensate the horizontal line, so let’s just do that:

If it wasn’t obvious in the first image, now it is: the diagonal line also looks heavier than the orthogonal ones.

So, for comprehension’s sake, let’s give the diagonal line the same stroke width has the (already compensated) horizontal line:

… which makes the diagonal line too thin.

Before we get into the solution, I’d like you to consider a couple of things:

This example is not random, i.e., I’ve picked a 45º angle to the diagonal line for a reason that you’re about to find out;
We can only apply this to monoline fonts, although this is just a starting point (the next articles will cover more cases and correspondent corrections).

So, if neither of the horizontal nor the vertical strokes’ width is applicable to the 45º diagonal (which, again, is half-way rotated between the orthogonal axis), what happens if we pick the exact in-between stroke width? Here you go:

Does it look alright? *wink*

And now, you might be asking about other angles. If we apply the same width stroke to any diagonal, we get this:

If you compare the first two lines, the second looks too thin; and if you compare the last two, the former looks too thick.

So here we can start to acknowledge that the thickness of a diagonal line should vary according to it’s angle, and that it’s a progression between the horizontal and vertical widths.

Here’s a linear progression of angles and widths:

2.1 Tackling Slants and Widths

If you’re anything like me, by now you’re doing some stressful mental schemes on how to calculate the exact width of a diagonal, depending on the horizontal and vertical strokes’ widths.

So, in order to save you some stressful times, here’s a quick and dirty way to do it:

Draw an ellipse that has the same width as the vertical stroke and the same height as the horizontal stroke;
Adjust the strokes to be tangents to this ellipse.

Two steps method. This is what I call workflow optimization! Here’s a visual representation of the method:

And, to implement a tradition, here are these principles applied to type:

3. Straight vs. Curve

And we’re coming closer to an end.

Let’s start with the following image, where all the strokes are exactly the same (and the O is already overshot):

And now, let’s make the corrections that we already know about (horizontal and vertical, in this case):

Same kind of question: do the straight and curved strokes feel equal? You might want to take a step back it see the images from afar.

The H seems to pop out more that the O. And, as I mentioned, the O is already overshot, so it’s not a case of overshooting. Or is it?

Well, curves seem thinner that straight lines for the same reason we have to overshoot them: a lot of white space is created and positive mass is decreased, so we have to compensate for that.

But the thing to retain here is that curves seem thinner than straight lines and the amount of compensation needed isn’t as extreme as the one we do in the verticle / horizontal cases, so it’s closer to an overshooting compensation.

Let’s correct our example:

4. How Much?

If you’ve noticed, I wasn’t blunt about how much to compensate; in fact, I only gave one example in §1.

I could provide rules-of-thumb that would be percentage ranges of compensation, but I feel that this is a trap.

First (and again), I advise you not to make calculations; providing you such rules (on how much to compensate) would oblige you to make these calculations and I want you to design as freely as you can.

So take what you’ve learned today and trust you’re eye. If it looks awkward, well, it’s awkward. Teach yourself to pay attention to the forms, counterforms and whitespace. Inspect the curve/line segments on by one and compare them to the whole form. And to the whole group of forms.

Even if we dabble in maths and geometry, here, keep in mind that these are means to an end, not the end itself.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this article, see you in the next one! Cheers!

References:

The Art of Eyeballing – Part III: Overshooting

Index

Introduction | Learning To See | Overshooting | The Stroke: Optics

You probably heard about overshooting, specially if you came from a visual arts background. If you haven’t, welcome! And if you have, well, it doesn’t hurt to refresh our knowledge and explore what we know in a more in-depth way.

1. Definition

So, what’s overshooting?

If you search the web for a definition (as I just did), you’ll end up reading about economics theory or mechanical engineering jargon. Is this somehow related or interesting to this topic? Not really, but amusing, nonetheless.

Overshooting, in visual arts, is the optical correction of forms in relation to other graphic elements, more specifically to their construction rectangle, in order to achieve perceptual balance. Still amusing, right?

Let’s check the About.com definition of overshooting:

The main parts of letters generally fall between the baseline and x-height or cap height. The overshoot is where rounded portions of a letter (such as O or n) extend slightly above or below those lines. This slight overshoot creates an optical illusion that the letters are the same relative size as non-rounded (flat) letters like L or H.

Apart from the casual humor, I wrote that almost unintelligible definition because this second one is incomplete:

It doesn’t contemplate shapes with straight lines that need optical compensation (A and V, for example);
Has no consideration for horizontal overshooting.

1.1 A Matter Of Perceptual Mass

So, what is this all about?

Well, as we discussed on chapter 2, the way we perceive things around us isn’t accurate (for biological and cultural reasons), let alone mathematically perfect.

Using the classical example, consider this image:

Now, do the circle and triangle feel to you that they have the same weight has the squares? Truth is, they’re all the same height, they just have a different area, or more precisely, a different visual mass.

But then again, area and visual mass are not the same thing. If they had the same area, they would look like this:

2. Perception versus Geometry

Of course, there’s more to this. As we could see above (and discussed in the previous chapter), being mathematically precise doesn’t provide visual or perceptual balance.

So, lets approach the problems of the previous image and correct them.

2.1 Alignment

As you can guess, all the elements are aligned to their center. But if we try to come um to a base and top line, we would get something like this:

And, if we’re trying to achieve a stable composition, this doesn’t seem to be working out very well, right?

Lets then take the square as our standard element and extend the lines from it. We’ll get something like this:

The most evident problem here is the triangle’s bottom. Oh, sorry, the bottom-most part. *blushes*

So, apart from the platonic discussion about the sexyness of triangles, our seems to be falling down from the baseline, for two reasons:

It creates a huge amount of mass below the baseline;
Since the triangle’s base (or bottom, now I can’t get this off my head!) is perfectly horizontal, it’s pretty much stable, as a form; hence, the need for compensation below it’s baseline is nonexistent.

OK, now lets align the triangle to the baseline:

The base (I’m avoiding the word bottom, now. Or maybe not.) just got better. But what about the top? Too much stuff protruding there, right? As we saw in the first image, reducing the square to align the square just doesn’t work. And neither aligning it just to the baseline.

Lets try to scale it down a bit, while keeping the bottom (there we go again) aligned to the square:

Ah!, relief!

Still, the circle seems odd. The reason for this is the same: too much mass protruding above and below. Scaling it a bit down, aligned to the square’s center, we’ll get this as result:

Success! And here’s the composition without the guidelines:

2.2 Whitespace

Apart from being a really cool (or incredibly lame) name for a classic rock type designer’s band, every time you affect a form, you affect the white space around it: there is a constant play between positive and negative form and achieving balance of form requires attention to both, as New Age as this can sound. Or Confucian.

So, if we consider the vertical extremes of a form for optical compensation, we should do the same the horizontal ones.

Usually, horizontal compensation is neglected when we talk about overshooting, because it’s a matter of metrics. But since we are talking about perceptual (or optic, although the latter is not a very precise term, as we could see in chapter 2) compensation and this is not exclusive to type design, but rather generalistic, visually speaking, we should talk about this.

Consider the following image:

The circle and the triangle are compensated according to §2.1 and equal space is maintained between each element. The reason why squares are paired is to have a reference of spacing, since we saw that the square has no need for optical compensation. Here’s an image with the spacing margins:

Due to the triangle and circle’s irregular form (or better, non-square form), a big amount of white space is created, making these seem separated further apart from the squares, in comparison to the space between a pair of squares.

Again, we’re not aiming for mathematical calculations of space, but visual balance. With this said, if we were to calculate the white space area and make it equal, the circle and the triangle would overlap its neighbour square.

Instead, we’ll reduce the side spacing in the same proportions as we did vertically:

And here’s the same composition, without the guides and spacing blocks:

2.3 Some considerations

I haven’t told you how much you should compensate, with the exception of the previous example. I did so because there isn’t an exact answer: we could talk about ranges, but these are form-dependent;
If we’re designing free-form elements, as most glyphs are, the notion of exact calculations seems like a complete waste of time. It’s easier to test and decide than to write a complex software just to make that kind of decision for you and, most likely, with an unappealing result;
The reason why I was able to tell you to compensate the same horizontally that was made vertically is because these forms are symmetrical horizontally, and, in the case of the circle, symmetrical in both axis. And to tell you the truth, the compensation in the triangle’s horizontal spacing is slightly bigger than vertically (meaning the spacing was further reduced), to keep a nice flowing rhythm.

4. Counter-forms

As stated in § 2.2, there’s an ever-going dialogue between positive and negative forms; and I say form instead of outline because we should also consider negative forms inside positive ones, because this also has an effect in optical compensation.

Here’s an example:

Here are some observations regarding the previous image:

Proportionally, when we apply a stroke inside our forms, the amount of white space reduction, proportionally, is bigger in the circle than in the square;
A thick stroke makes the circle look smaller than the square, for the reason above;
A thin stroke goes above the top alignment, making the circle look bigger than before;
The stroke has also an effect on horizontal spacing and should be compensated accordingly.

The conclusion here is that we should increase the amount of compensation as we increase the stroke, paying attention to balancing the counters. In fact, when we have counter forms, they overpower the form’s outline and their equilibrium becomes more significant than the solid form itself.

5. Conclusion

So here we covered the basics of overshooting, opening a door to the world of optical calibration.

Thanks for reading the article and I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you believe that it can be useful to others, please share it!

See you in the next article!

References & Further Reading:

Type Mechanics: 001 – Frere-Jones, Tobias

So, How Much Is An Em?

With the implementation of the em unit in CSS and it’s handy use in responsive webdesign, all of a sudden it got famous outside the typographic realm.

1. The Simple Answer

An em is the same size as the font’s point size. There, as simple as that.

But if we already have the point unit, why would we need the em?

Well, the em unit is a relative unit, while the point is a fixed one. This means that a point will always be 1/72 of an inch, so a 12pt font will have (in height) 1/6 of an inch (or one pica, but that’s another story); on the other hand, 1em in a 12pt font is equal to 12pt and 2em will be 24pt (1/3 of an inch) – but in a 72pt font, 1em corresponds to 72pt (1 inch) and 2em to 144pt (2 inches).

Back to why, a good example of the use of the em (and probably where it’s mostly used) is on setting the line height (leading): imagine that you want to use a font in 24pt and you want the leading (font height + spacing) to be 1 and 1/4 of the font size; doing some calculations, you’ll find that it’s 30pt. Now imagine that you have a title, a subtitle and a quote deck to go along with your text body, and you want to keep the same relative space between the lines of text.

Instead of having to calculate every leading measure in points, wouldn’t it be more simple just to say “125% of the font height, please“? Well, the good news is, you can, specially in CSS:

body, html { line-height: 1.25em; }

Done.

2. History

First of all, why the name, em?

If you thought that the em has anything to do with the letter m, you got it wrong. But if you thought that it has something to do with the letter M, you got it right. *smile*

Smartassery aside, the em got its name from the width of the letter M. As you may guess, this would easily escalate to a major headache, since the unit would vary with the typeface being used at the moment and, as we already saw above, with the point size as well.

But why the width of the letter M? How did it go from width to height?

The answer to these two questions is the same: traditionally, in metal type, the letter M was cast in a square block (a.k.a. em-square and/or em-quad), so the height and width were the same measure.

3. Em = Distance From Ascender to Descender? Not Really.

In digital type development, there’s a thing called UPM: Units Per Em. As you might have figured out from it’s name, the UPM sets the amount of subdivisions of the body size, i.e., its em.

The rest of the font’s metrics are set in relation to this matrix. Take the following case:

As you can see on the right, the UPM is set to 1000 units and if we add up the distance between the ascender and the descender, the value is 1050 units, hanging below the em height. So, if we set the line-height or leading to 1em, the ascender and descender will overlap. Take a look:

But pay attention to the line gap, in first image of this section. From the ascender to the line gap bottom, its 1200/1000 units, the same as 1.2em.

Since the line gap acts as a default leading parameter, leaving the leading untouched or setting it to 120% (or 1.2em) produces the same result (in this case, of course):

One thing that is worth mentioning is how the line gap is handled. In most DTP software and browsers, the line gap is divided in half and distributed on top and bottom of the em square, as you can see above. This is why you usually have to nudge your text box a bit down in order to make your baseline hit the grid.

4. Wrapping up

So, now you know what an em is, how the font’s body height is calculated and how leading works.

Hope you enjoyed the article!

References & Further Reading: