I came to the same conclusion as Massimo and many other designers—I don’t need a huge range of fonts of questionable quality to choose from, I only need a few high quality ones. So I created my own list of 5 fonts that I use most often.
Not sure, if I’d be able to strictly limit myself to five fonts like Massimo Vignelli, but I certainly have a bunch of fonts I keep coming back to more frequently. Guess I’m going to make a list of my favourite ‘five fonts’ covering the cited criteria and then try to use them whenever I start working on something new, as Matej Latin suggests in All you need is 5 fonts.
betterwebtype.com/articles/2021/06/07/all-you-need-is-5-fonts/
Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one’s self esteem. That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily; and why older persons, especially if vain or important, cannot learn at all.
© Above&Below and Einar Fehrholz
Aquateque is a short film and multimedia installation exploring the river Ruhr through a variety of new media technologies. The diverse ecosystem of the surrounding is captured through audio, visual and 3d modelling tools and transformed into a generative augmented space. The project explores themes such as digital material ecology and neural networks as artistic tools to dream about alternative and fantastical worlds in which nature, machines and humans collide.
Bo Burnham – Inside
»Should I be joking at a time like this?«
Five years after he turned his back on performing, Bo Burnham is finally back on stage —or rather would’ve been if the pandemic hadn’t prevented his return last minute. Instead Burnham used the forced isolation during the last year to write, perform and edit the new Netflix comedy special –an improper label, by the way– all by himself at home. Basically he’s coming full circle more than a decade after starting out as a teen performing quirky comedy songs alone in his small room for a fast-growing YouTube audience.
The new program, aptly titled Inside, is a wild amalgamation of sketch comedy pieces, documentary elements and –of course– catchy musical performances. One of its great achievements is how well the seemingly disjointed bits are pieced together to archive a somewhat coherent narrative to follow along, not unlike a four act story structure. Burnham always had immense talent for witty writting and pinpoint timing and he has clearly perfected his craft, adding some political awareness and meta humor to his already poignant zeitgeist commentary.
In earlier shows he brought up his personal struggles every now and then, be it him coping with newfound fame or suffering from anxiety, but this new experiment blurres the line between his stage persona and the artist’s mental inside entirely, delivering multiple gut-wrenching insights and a painful character dissection throughout its 87 minutes runtime. That’s why I think labeling it a comedy special doesn’t do it justice, probably even bringing people in with completely wrong expectations. To me those highly emotional, dark and intimate moments intensify the comedic value and vice versa, but I totally understand how they might catch viewers off guard if the expectation is easygoing, mindless fun.
I’ve heard people calling Inside an arthouse film and I think that’s probably the best way to characterise the project. Not only because of its content, but because of its arrangement as well. It’s absolutely incredible what the comedian, musician, actor, director and screenwriter is able to archive basically with a tripod, a small consumer camera and various LEDs all by himself. The meticulous planned motion picture is brilliantly framed, illuminated and edited, resulting in a visually gorgeous, highly cinematic piece, in spite of its claustrophobic single room setting. It’s an inspiring example of how far creativity can get you even –or maybe especially– within strict limitations.
I think Burnham has crafted a true masterpiece and an exciting contemporary document —of the pandemic and its isolating impact in particular as well as our self-centered generation and modern (internet) culture at large. Inside is probably the best thing I’ve seen for a very long time and I wholeheartedly recommend it to everyone willing to go through this emotional rollercoaster ride. I’m pretty sure the two three viewings of mine won’t remain the last.
Ich bin der Meinung, dass die ganze Digitalisierung, die jetzt ja auch immer mehr Bestandteil unseres Daseins ist, Erfahrungsvermögen verdunkelt. Es gibt Bilder die verlöschen eins nach dem anderen ohne Spuren hier oben [anm.: im Kopf] zu hinterlassen. Es geht wahnsinnig schnell. Und vielleicht deshalb können oder wollen wir so viel konsumieren. Die sinnlich wahrnehmbare Welt verströhmt eine Aura, meine ich, die nicht digitalisiert werden kann. Wir müssen achtgeben jetzt, dass wir die digitale Welt beherrschen und nicht von ihr beherrscht werden.
❤️☠️🤖
The second season of the unique animated Netflix series Love Death + Robots is available since last weekend and once again David Fincher and Tim Miller have put together an impressive collection of science fiction short films by animation studios from around the world, as well as Miller’s very own visual effects studio Blur.
As a result the eight new episodes, produced by different casts and crews, vary widely in tone, length and style again, whereby the series as a whole still clearly targets an adult audience.
After the first run my favourite new episode is “The Drowned Giant” by Tim Miller himself, which closes this season and offers an unusual, poetic and gentle narrative based on a short story by J. G. Ballard from 1964. It stands out against the rather action-filled, more traditional Sci-Fi topics presented in most of the other new pieces of the anthology.
It can’t quite keep up with the wonderful, Zen-like “Zima Blue” from season one, though, which I must have watched a dozen times. To me the second season overall is not as strong as the first one, albeit beeing extremly impressive and diverse on the technical side yet again. Perhaps the concept isn’t as fresh anymore as it was when launched initially back in 2019 –so thematic overlaps are predetermined to happen–, or perhaps the fewer episodes –eight instead of eighteen– naturally leave less room for variation and new ideas. Either way, I somewhat missed the impact the first eigtheen episodes had on me.
With that beeing said, if you are into (mature) animation, the art of moving-images and science fiction stories, there’s nothing like this series –at least since Heavy Metal (1981) and Animatrix (2003)– and season two is well worth watching for sure. I’m very happy the gutsy, artistic project is continued, an eight-episode third season is scheduled for a release in 2022.
I’d say slow down, find a quiet place and create time for solitude so you can hear yourself. It’s so noisy out there. And find the good ones around you –the patient, compassionate and interested– then elevate the conversation as often as you can. The things that nourish you are also the things that will nourish your work, give it purpose, depth and soul. It’s hard to say what those things may be, but life has taught me over and over that you don’t need to know if you are willing to ask.
Over the past few decades, we have helped build a corporate culture that systematically prioritizes short-term gains over longer-term product health.
A well written, intriguingly designed online essay by Fabricio Teixeira, Caio Braga and Emily Curtin about provoking change through the work we do every day as digital product designers. I totally agree, the world needs a tech diet.
The word ‘studio’ is derives from ‘study’. Our object is not to know the answers before we do the work. It’s to know them after we do it.