The electronic revolution in communications that characterised the last two decades of the twentieth century demanded a new and dynamic visual form. Fuse magazine was at the forefront of these revolutionary times.
Fuse was a quarterly experimental type magazine launched by the designer/editor partnership of Neville Brody and Jon Wozencroft and was produced in association with Fontshop International. Fuse would facilitate a dialogue between the visual arts and design communities internationally. It attracted artists, type designers, graphic designers and art directors to its project of redefining [visual] language for the digital age.
While the Fuse project set its sights firmly on a multi-dimensional, multi-media and digitised future, it pragmatically employed traditional forms of printed communication to inspire and critique. Each issue of Fuse was packaged in neutral-brown corrugated cardboard and contained a ‘floppy’ disk with experimental typefaces and five A2 posters. The editorial team commissioned four leading typographers to design an exclusive font with a poster showing an example of a creative application. A fifth poster provided information about the contributors, typefaces and that issues theme. Fuse was edited by Wozencroft and designed by Brody.
Throughout the 1990s the experimental spirit nurtured by the magazine was further consolidated through its influential annual conferences in the mid-nineties. Conceived as an area free of the commercial considerations of the client/designer/user relationship Brody saw the necessity of the Fuse project in terms beyond mere commercial application. In an interview with design critic Rick Poynor in Design Without Boundaries, Brody laid out the aim of Fuse as, ‘divorcing the look of the word, from what the word says’. At its core, the scope of the Fuse project, while rooted in the creative industries, lay beyond a mere critique of graphic design and looked towards an exploration of the very social relations that give rise to it.
Fuse offered one of the few industry-wide international forums for disparate, like-minded, experimental type designers. The interface between the individual digital authors and the majority of their users would remain the printed poster. Brody saw this conundrum as ‘a platform to promote a dialogue on the extent to which the digital code alters communication’.
Over the next decade, Fuse offered a multi-layered and multi-dimensional aesthetic that would attempt to employ type as image and image as story. This use of type and graphic marks as complete, story-telling devices, implicated the type designer as central in the creation of a new visual language. Brody proclaimed, ‘I’m divorcing the look of the word from what the word says’. In its new digital form typography had to be more than an invisible form in the service of the written word. Beatrice Warde’s analogous Crystal Goblet would be smashed on entry to the brave new digitised world. Fuse employed abstract and organic architectural forms in its type designs. Little distinction was made between image and type. The new visual language would reject this hierarchy in favour of a more harmonious and equal value relation between word and image in future-oriented digital communications.
|FF Stealth, Malcolm Garrett, 1991|
The first issue launched us into the murky, highly contested waters of typographic legibility and demands a response. The critical force behind the Fuse project was not simply about challenging typographic convention in its function and its form, but required a reassessment of how we communicate, both as designer/users and as receiver/users. As Wozencroft would have it, ‘Producers and purchasers are urged to experiment with digital language in a context liberated from client/commercial constraints – contributors are briefed to push the boundaries of both the printed word and its fusing into electronic language so that typography’s professional representation in graphic design is revolutionised’. Practically this was no empty gesture from the new electronic publisher, at least technologically speaking. Subscribers to Fuse were encouraged to not simply visually interpret the ‘fonts’ but actually redraw them using widely available software as they were free from industry standard, copyright restrictions.
Fuse 2 ‘Runes: wind blasted trees’ saw a further push towards abstraction. Contributions by innovative Dutch typographers included ‘Niwida’ by Erik van Blokland; Gerard Unger’s ‘Decoder’ font with ‘Fixel’ and ‘Linear Konstrukt’ by Just van Rossum and Max Kisman respectively.
With the arrival of Fuse 3 ‘Disinformation: point to line and plane’ the experimental editorial line, while still questioning, could be said to be on more conventional ground with its concentration on information design. Designs of a more familiar form were offered by German designers Erik Spiekermann’s ‘Grid’, Martin Wenzel gave us ‘InTegal’, Barbara Butterweck’s offered ‘Dear John’ and Swiss designer Cornell Windlin added ‘Moonbase Alpha’.
Following on from what might have been considered more recognisable fonts came representatives of the American ‘new wave’.
Fuse 4 ‘Exuberance: a type of death’ announced ‘Caustic Biomorph’ by Barry Deck, ‘Lushus’ by Jefferey Keedy, ‘Uck n Pretty’ by Rick Valicenti and ‘Yurnacular’ by David Berlow and rounded off the first year and 4 publications of Fuse.
The Fuse project had a mission to bring together type designers conversant in the new digital technologies with a background in experimental design. Attempts at challenging notions of language and how we communicate was evidenced not only in the professionals attracted around it but also the number of designers engaged with it through the publication and its conferences. Three Fuse conferences were held, in London (1994), Berlin (1996), San Francisco (1998) and a special event in Tokyo, 1999. The conferences brought together speakers from the creative disciplines of design, architecture, sound, film and interactive design and the web. The conferences played an important role in broadening the appeal of the project to new audiences.
Through the development and application of new digital technologies under the initial authorship and guidance of leading, international designers, a fledgling visual language arose through and on digital technology that promised a dynamic visual alternative to a new generation of designers. It was a visual language that spoke of revolutionary change at a time of social and cultural flux. It was a visual metaphor that favoured the new and struck out in favour of changing the way we see and how we communicate.
Fuse nevertheless attracted it share of critics, most vocal among them was the designer/critic Michael Rock who, after 10 issues countered, ‘Perhaps the most curious aspect of the magazine is the poster collection that serves as a showcase for each issue’s assembled talent. But next to the lively type design, the compositions seem loose and unfocused. Each is a two-colour font specimen demonstrating one of the featured alphabets, although most of the posters seem to shirk that feature of their job. Rock’s criticism exposed the limitations of experimental work whose founders saw their role as disconnected, if not hostile, to the commercial world. Many of the contributions by Fuse designers further suggested the anti-commercial strategy was problematic – as illustrated by their rejection of Brody’s request to further abstract their type forms towards illegibility.
Historically, typographic experimentation has played a crucial role in the development of language and its graphic representation. In the last century typography has been a central factor in the way we see and read the world. The Futurists used typography to uncover the ever-increasing speed of early twentieth century society, while the Modernists searched for the universal typeface. Herbert Bayer’s phonetic alphabet carried on the work of his predecessors well into the 1950s. The 60s saw further experimentation with a new alphabet by Dutch designer, Wim Crouwel. All put language and typography under the spotlight, and in the service of better communication.
|New Alphabet, Wim Crouwel, 1967|
The Fuse magazine project similarly asked some fundamental questions about the way we communicate and the visual language we employ to further refine and illuminate the process. But its rejection of commercial considerations – a contemporary impulse – that would necessarily restrict its potential and application and would consign it to the radical art ghetto. Nevertheless, it highlighted the need for a new approach to an unfamiliar mode of communication and certainly contributed to an emerging new media aesthetic.