LettError Introduction

Two friendly, modest men, individuals, designers each with their own commissions, forming a design duo: Just van Rossum (1966) and Erik van Blokland (1967), LettError. Two real Dutchmen — pragmatic, critical, a bit surly, not taking their name and fame too seriously, and free of any sense of self-importance. At the same time world-famous in professional circles of connoisseurs in the field of computer culture and typography. And brilliant in the playful but intelligent way they explore their terrain: that of the designer who programs.

In the late Eighties, when they were discovering the profession of programming designer, computers were just starting to emerge in the design world. Architects and spatial designers hardly worked with them yet, just here and there an artist, hacker or would-be media guru. Progressive design agencies like Erik Spiekermann's MetaDesign in Berlin, where Van Rossum and Van Blokland worked for a while, had a series of Macs. The Royal Academy for Fine and Applied Arts (KABK) in The Hague where they had just graduated as typographic designers had just one.

It was an era to be nostalgic about, with an emerging digital culture and new technologies in the teething stage. A period in which software engineering packages or component libraries had not yet been conceived; in which the quantity of available software, yet alone fonts, was still very limited and in which anyone who was bent on getting something that could not yet be done using that software had no choice but to become a programmer himself. A pioneer age, with the exciting promise that the future belonged to the computer.

1990 was the year of the first LettError design: Beowolf, the first font in which a margin of chance helped to determine the shape of the letters. This ragged font was an overnight success in the world of computer typography, in which the quest for perfection had made smooth and regular the norm. Irregularities were signs of work done by hand, and that was exactly what the computer replaced. Beowolf, however, was immediately regarded as both a brilliant invention and the ultimate expression of a hectic era. Beowolf was also the first font in the digital font library FontFont issued by FontShop International, which Joan and Erik Spiekermann had just set up. That certainly did something extra to achieve recognition for it. But the secret lay in LettError's capacity to program by themselves; by exploring the technology and coding their own software tools, Van Rossum and Van Blokland discovered many new possibilities.

In the early Nineties Van Blokland and Van Rossum created a number of informal fonts — readymades or objects trouvés, as they would be called in the fine arts: their own scanned handwriting (JustLeftHand and ErikRightHand), the letters of a widely used old typewriter (Trixie), stamp letters (StampGothic), punch label letters (Dynamoe), and so on. Simple enough ideas in themselves of the kind "it's easy, but you have to think of it" — but that is one of the reasons why they were so good. Trixie, Karton and StampGothic were digital versions of familiar fonts, which made such a natural and ordinary impression that no one had thought of calling them typography before. And yet they proved capable of provoking “the shock of the new”.

Trixie, StampGothic and the later Karton were a breath of fresh air for computer users: at last something familiar, something that looked used and a bit soiled in that smooth, businesslike world of computers. A modest, unadorned detail in a world of hype. Without its being their immediate aim, Van Rossum and Van Blokland developed digital products with warmth and a human dimension. They no longer seem so unusual; they have been used and imitated so much. Immediately labeled as modern classics, they were used all over the world for all kinds of hip cultural magazines and programs, from MTV to Rolling Stone.

And then came BitPull, the typeface built up from pixels that you could bend like elastic. AdvertRough, a font that was made up of different layers of color. And Kosmik, a quasi random font which did not faze the printer, as Beowolf did. LettError seemed to be a kind of King Midas: whatever they touched turned to gold. They take it all with a pinch of salt — as if it just happened to them, two curious young men who dabbled in technology and did what they liked doing, with the right ideas and the right contacts at the right moment. With “just do your own thing”, a credo of their type design tutor Gerrit Noordzij, as the bottom line. In a certain sense it is true, but it is not the whole story. Partly thanks to their surroundings, they knew only too well the significance of their designs and messing around. They provided full commentary on it at many conferences, in their own irregular published magazine LettError, and on their site
www.letterror.com

And there was also the flood of articles about the phenomenon LettError that appeared all over the world. After the release of Beowolf, many, many periodicals that had some authority in the field of technology, design and culture published articles about it. It all sounded so exciting. Just as the architects and artists who were in the vanguard of developing digital culture worked on intelligent buildings, Van Rossum and Van Blokland constructed intelligent fonts. They reacted to the movements of the mouse as digital letters, or as letters that faded in the course of time or became more and more confused — a great way to get users of a program to pay for their software. At that time Van Rossum and Van Blokland were still respectfully called hacker programmers. There was a brief rumor of a letter virus that infected Macintosh computers.

And now, now the shock of the new is over? Now more people than ever use screen typography, many computers are fitted standard with dozens of fonts, internet seems the most normal thing in the world, Macs are sold by the dozen in the Albert Heijn supermarkets, and commerce is flooding digital culture to such an extent that many of the original pioneers are accepting well-paid jobs, have smoothly operating companies, or aren't quite sure what to do next? LettError still work as a duo, as well as each working on their own commissions. Not all of their inventions are immediately published now. But that does not mean to say that they are not inventing anything exciting any more. Take mobile, layered, interactive and cinematographic fonts or animations in two and a half dimensions, that can be run by remote control. There is no shortage of plans, such as the layout machine that matches text and image, more typography through the internet, and the randomizing of rules instead of results.

The strength of LettError still lies in the combination of self-programming type design and the use of plenty of curiosity and trial and error to arrive at new results. Because the duo develop the codes for their graphic synthesizers themselves, they can implement their ideas exactly as they like. For instance, a design machine was specially designed for this book which makes the choice of font depend on the layout of the page — which of course is also produced using a LettError system.

The phenomenon of LettError has not yet lost any of its significance. Precisely now, when there is so much software available and multi-feature design programs seem to be able to do everything the designer wants, the “be critical, curious and do-it-yourself” approach and the work of LettError are even more important. Because, Van Blokland and Van Rossum claim, if you are not satisfied with the limitations that a software programmer imposes on you, the moment will come when the program cannot do what you want. And the only way to solve that is to learn to write your own code. LettError like explaining how this works to designers who are frightened of taking the plunge. LettError are even developing a new program to make life easier for them and for their fellow typographers. It will not be an instant hit, because the retail market for typography designers is too small for that. But it is still about the most fantastic thing there is: freedom and the possibility of getting the most out of your own creativity.

And TypoMan? He is there to save typography. To ensure that typography designers still have a future in the network society.