Handwerk

This seventh issue, four folded offset-printed posters, publishes sampled and reworked material from the feminist collective and publication Big Mama Rag (1972–84, Denver, Colorado), specifically focusing on the issues and articles dealing with the Palestinian and international feminist struggle. Typeset alongside this archival collage is “Introduction to The Weather” (2001) by poet Lisa Robertson.

4 folded posters (narrow A2)

“… Ever since its inception as a profession, graphic design has exhibited its necessity to make information public. Its urge to expand and to reproduce reflects its capitalist inheritance. This desire however isn’t always shared by all stories molded and articulated by the discipline.

Publishing is preceded by a series of labours, but the act itself consists just of a very instant. It is one loud shriek from the top of a hill. A toppling-over. From then on a story will tumble downhill—distribute and disseminate. However that happens, and who it reaches is an unpredictable process. Thereafter publishing enables, and sets in motion, all its future readings and retellings.

Wondering the many contradictory sensibilities contained in this process, we attempt to grasp their whys, their hows and their ifs. The following essays— written by Sunny Lei, Haron Barashed, Agathe Mathel, Alina Scharnhorst, Villem Sarapuu, Gal Šnajder, Seppe-Hazel Laeremans, Fernanda Saval and Eva Claycomb—stretch and curl in between these various registers of opening up and closing in.

Unraveling the movements, strategies, forms and intentions of publishing, this book attempts to unfold their utterances, platforms, languidities, reinterpretations, identities, tactilities, ambiguities, characters and audiences.”

—from the introduction by Seppe-Hazel Laeremans and Agathe Mathel.

Do you remember the last time you were looking forward to the future? We're not talking about flying cars or floating screens. We're talking about a credible vision of a better time to come. So when was the last time? How did it look? How did it feel?

Have a glance at page 223, about two-thirds in. This is a portrait of Frantz Fanon by Milton Glaser. One of the biggest names in commercial graphic design of the 20th century, painting the likeness of the giant of anti-colonial thought. Let’s leave aside the question of "who's the Milton Glaser of today?" for now, but if there was one, whose portrait would they be painting?

What we’re attempting, in these few hundred pages, is to track our favorite examples of the visual language of revolt and solidarity in the 1960s and 1970s, put them in dialogue with our most beloved works of graphic design of those decades, and celebrate the heroes who made them. 
Creative currents flowing from Paris to Tokyo, Cuba to Milano, Beirut to New York, Berkeley to London, with innovations and revolutions (both political and artistic) happening every year. Causes supported by incredible talent and inspiring design that activated people, uplifted liberation movements, advanced the struggles for social justice, and created bonds of global solidarity.

Sadly this cross-pollination between commercial art and the political ended around the late 1980s and those two worlds are now completely isolated from one another.
Why do movements not produce beautiful and memorable visuals anymore? Why do the biggest image makers of today not lend their talents to the good fights that need their help? We hope that these will intersect again, and the first step is to study their history.Friends, we are here to tell you that fighting for a better world is, in fact, not only extremely cool, but the coolest thing you can do — and we have the images to prove it!

Ramdane Touhami and Émile Shahidi have spent years researching and traveling to assemble a huge collection of books, rare periodicals and radical art that will soon be available for consultation in person and online, and of which this little book is just a taste.

The book Posting brings together a selection of feminist posters from Dutch archives to reflect on posting as an activist strategy, holding the potential to create counter-publics to mainstream culture and to fight against the erasure, exoticization, or tokenism of bodies and experiences that deviate from normative preconceptions.

As is the case for many professions, in the history of Dutch graphic design the absence of women, non-binary, queer, Black designers is striking. This doesn’t only point back to systematic processes of exclusion in the first place, but also to the biases at play regarding whose work is remembered and archived. While efforts have been made to add forgotten names to the existing canon, the many posters, flyers and other printed matter shelved in queer and feminist archives remind us to question the notion of single authorship altogether and instead study graphic design as a decisively collaborative and transdisciplinary practice, which is especially true for community-led and volunteer-based projects.

The posters featured in this book point to this rich landscape of feminist organizing, and were found at the International Institute of Social History and the International Archive for the Women’s Movement (IAV-Atria) in Amsterdam.

Solidaires est un syndicat de lutte et de transformation sociale qui défend les travailleuses et travailleurs de France.

Cet ouvrage réunit une sélection de plus de 70 visuels créés par la graphiste Anaïs Enjalbert et des militant·e·s pour l'Union syndicale Solidaires.
Ce livre est une archive sélective de visuels dont les slogans accompagnent des valeurs et des pratiques émancipatrices allant du féminisme à l’antiracisme, de l’internationalisme à l’anti fascisme, de la lutte contre les lgbtphobies à celle contre le validisme. Ils soutiennent la lutte contre le capitalisme et pour les services publics.

Format 14 x 19,5 cm
Conception graphique: Magali Brueder

Since 2011, the Velvetyne collective has been dedicated to creating and distributing typefaces under open-source licenses. Its members advocate and promote an uninhibited typographic practice, guided by political principles and aesthetic risk-taking.

This monograph celebrates a generous collective creation—pioneering and recognized on the international scene—that continually questions and reinvents itself. Velvetyne Saved My Life reveals the distinctive workings of this unconventional structure within the contemporary type foundry landscape, its commitment to free-culture and open-source principles, its singular editorial policy, and its pedagogical practice.

The book is structured around a polyphonic interview conducted by Sandra Chamaret with the members of the collective, a series of in-depth articles on emblematic typefaces from the foundry, as well as an exhaustive catalogue of the more than 70 fonts published by nearly as many international authors. 

Halfway between text and type specimen, this book is both a story to read and a manifesto to see.