Hi Zuzana, I hope you’re well. Shall we start with an introduction?
Sure, no problem. I was born in Bratislava, Czechoslovakia, and my family emigrated to California when I was seven years old. When I entered grade school in the US, it was unfamiliar territory. The language, the customs, everything was new. Perhaps this background of being an immigrant has given me a different perspective and contributes to my tendency to question things. I think this made me consider other points of view, and I appreciate the value of pausing to consider alternative approaches to doing things. And that is at the core of design, evaluating a variety of different methods in the process of distilling the final solution.
What first inspired you to follow a career in design?
Growing up, I enjoyed both visual art and mathematics. That led me to pursue architecture, as it offered a combination of the intuitive and rational aspects of these disciplines.
When I arrived at UC Berkeley, however, I found myself intrigued by related classes such as photography, letterpress, and typography, and I realised that I should pursue graphic design, with a special focus on type. I was particularly fascinated by experimenting with type as illustration. There weren’t any specific type design programs at universities or art schools back then, but Berkeley allowed me to create an individualised major in Graphic Communication.
I remember a funny moment when I told an architecture classmate that I had signed up for a typography class. We got well into the conversation before I realised he thought I meant topography (mapmaking of landforms)! That’s how fringe the typography curriculum was.
That’s brilliant — my friends outside of design are often still confused when I tell them I’m interested in typography! Where does your interest in type originate?
I have always been fascinated by the shapes of letters. I still get easily distracted by letterform details and often need to re-read text to get back on track with the written matter. I find myself analysing the design subconsciously.
Type design actually relates to architecture in many ways. Both deal with creating compositions from repetitions of modular elements. Both rely on a balance between positive and negative space, which requires analysing the shapes as abstract forms. And both play with illusions. For example, how a form can appear heavy or light, regardless of its actual weight, or how a circular shape (like the letter ‘O’) needs to be bigger than a squared off shape (like the letter ‘H’) to optically appear the same size.
As a student of graphic design, I was amazed at the power that typeface design has on a typographic piece. Without touching the layout, you can completely transform a design just by changing the typeface. Take a logo, for example. The design of just a few alphabetic characters will often constitute the entire logo design. The tone and weight of the typeface used are critical to making that combination of letterforms work.
However, the process of designing typefaces remained a mystery to me until I acquired a Macintosh computer in 1984. Back then, the technology was very primitive, which actually made it easier to understand. And having little preconceived notions about typeface design helped me explore this new medium to full potential.
Before establishing Emigre, did you have much experience with other creative practices? Had you spent time in studios, or did you always know you wanted to set up with Rudy?
There wasn’t really a clear direction at first. I began doing all sorts of design-related odd jobs. Then, in 1984, everything changed when the Macintosh was introduced. We bought one, and suddenly everything started to fall into place. We both, each in our own way, really enjoyed this machine. It forced us to question everything we had learned about design. Rudy is more intuitive, while I’m more methodical, but we both enjoyed that process of exploration, of how far you could push the limits.
Initially, we started our ventures separately. Rudy founded Emigre magazine with two other Dutch artists, while I was experimenting with type design. It was only later that these paths merged when I started creating fonts for use in Emigre magazine. This brought the typesetting more within our creative control while also making it more economical than traditional typesetting.
What has been your biggest challenge as a creative?
Working with early digital technology presented many challenges, but these constraints actually inspired more free exploration than working with today’s limitless possibilities. We had to figure out a lot of stuff from scratch, with very primitive tools, including how to sell type online when the internet was in its infancy.
There was always something to react against, a puzzle to solve, or a problem to overcome. We had to reconsider basic assumptions, which led to unusual forms that we might not have explored otherwise.
With today’s tools, you can create almost anything, which presents an entirely different kind of challenge. When you have unlimited possibilities, it can actually be harder to find direction. That’s why I often create my own constraints to work within.
What’s it like running a business with your partner?
One of the best things about being a couple working in design is having our work integrated into our daily lives and sharing that experience. We each control distinct parts of the equation, and we both initiate our own projects, getting feedback from the other as we go along.
What principles inform your process?
My love of solving puzzles drives my creative process. Most of my inspiration comes from the particular medium I’m working with at the time. I search for a problem that needs to be addressed or look for unique results that a production method can yield. I believe in setting up rules because defining limits creates guidance for the thought process. As you implement those rules, you soon realise if they need to be adjusted or expanded.
For example, when I started with bitmap fonts on the early Macintosh, I was working with very specific technological constraints. With Oblong, the goal was to make a bitmap design that didn’t show “jaggies,” so this design has no diagonals or curves, only right angles. Similarly, Journal has no curves — they’re approximated by segments of straight lines.
I often approach projects with the mindset of creating a system of elements that can be combined and repeated in various configurations. For instance, I’ve used font software to create sketches for ceramic sculptures made of modular elements, which then inspired a pattern font. Another font family emerged from applying fonts to weaving.
Are there any non-negotiables you put into your work?
One of the benefits of initiating my own typeface projects is that I don’t have to negotiate the design.
Is there anything you wish more people understood about your work, or Emigre?
I think some people misunderstand Emigre’s legacy as just being about experimental typography or the digital revolution. But what we were really doing was questioning assumptions and creating a platform for critical design discourse through Emigre magazine, which ran for two decades.
Looking back, the period between 1985-2000 was perhaps one of the most exciting times in graphic design history. And we count ourselves lucky, having landed in the midst of it all.
What brings you joy?
I find great joy in having our work integrated into our daily lives. Design is one of the few fields that allows for this kind of lifestyle. The work we create, our photos and ceramics, are all over our house. We live with our work, and it’s become a natural part of our everyday existence.
And there’s something deeply satisfying about creating tools that other designers use to express themselves. When we see our fonts out in the world being used in interesting ways, it’s incredibly gratifying.
How do you stay inspired?
Even today, as technology has become more sophisticated, I’m still inspired by asking questions. For example, after designing a pattern font, I discovered I could have it custom woven on a computer-driven loom, something I never imagined possible 30 years ago. These kinds of possibilities keep pushing me to explore new directions.
As someone who embraced the possibilities of technology early in your career, do you have any strong thoughts or opinions on the growing use of AI in commercial work?
AI can provide a lot of seemingly great ideas very quickly, but this can prevent the emergence of new ideas if we limit ourselves to the ideas from AI. This problem is that it’s difficult to think outside of these preconceptions. When you start with a blank slate, you are likely to come up with a more unique solution than if you start with a list of suggestions. I like to give myself a chance to explore before seeing what AI has to offer. AI can present quick solutions, so I can see how that is attractive for businesses trying to cut costs. I’m afraid that an increasing reliance on AI will result in blandness, because it’s really just drawing from a well of existing material. The world would be much more interesting if unique care and originality was put into each piece of work.
Another problem with AI is the lack of credit given to the source material. I want to know about each source so I can seek out more from that source, or put it into context, or verify the accuracy, or just to put a name to it for future reference.
What challenges do we face as an industry?
With the increased accessibility of design tools, there is a trend to bypass professional type designers, typographers, graphic designers and information designers, because manufacturers don’t recognise the importance of the visual interface. Too often, screen information seems hacked together by someone on the product design team, almost as an afterthought.
The fluidity of digital data, being easily modifiable, presents another significant challenge. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to draw clear lines of ownership and copyrights, as exemplified recently by AI.
The primary function of type remains communication, and communication has become a basic need in our culture. We need order in information, from the layout of the page to the shape of the letters, to the grammar of the text, but it’s a struggle to maintain focus on these fundamentals while adapting to technological changes.
For type designers specifically, computer technology has made the independent type industry possible by decentralising the design and production of typefaces. This has tremendously increased the choice of typefaces available, since it no longer requires a committee of corporate executives to approve investment in developing a typeface. However, this democratisation also means that, with all the new typefaces being designed today, it has become far more challenging to recoup the investment of releasing a new typeface design.
What opportunities can you see?
Today’s technology has made it possible for individuals to take on multiple functions in publishing. You can be a writer, editor, designer, and illustrator, bringing together various disciplines and streamlining the production process. This creates opportunities for seamless products with increased diversity, tailored to specific consumers. However, this also requires the individual to have multidisciplinary talents and knowledge.
Who is doing phenomenal work right now?
The sheer volume of typefaces released these days has made it impossible for me to keep up with all of the new work. While not all of it is innovative, I’m amazed by the sheer volume of high-quality work. This is undoubtedly the result of highly trained graduates emerging from all the new type design programs and their access to today’s sophisticated tools.
Much of the interesting type design work individuals, a testament to the technology are doing these days. When we started, very few people even knew what a typeface was. Now, just about everybody has at least used a font. I would hazard a guess that there are more foundries today than there were typefaces when we began our journey.
Are there any local artists, creatives, or organisations you admire?
The Letterform Archive, in San Francisco, is an important organisation for the preservation of and education about the letterform. We recently donated the Emigre archive to their collection, which includes original paste-up boards for Emigre magazine and a complete run of the publication, plus press sheets, audio tapes of interviews, merchandise, ephemera, correspondence, typeface development files, and type catalogues. It’s a world-class type & design collection, and it’s easily accessible to the public. It actively promotes design and knowledgeable and dedicated professionals run it. Letterform Archive offers a variety of programs and services, including an online archive, which is accessible to type lovers near and far.
What have you learned during your career?
Being free of preconceived notions can be a tremendous advantage, and limitations can actually foster creativity.
Running a business taught me to motivate myself and work with my own deadlines. When you’re not working for clients or following briefs, everything has to originate from within, but it gives you a level of independence that’s hard to give up.
Have you ever had a mentor (either formally or informally)?
Rather than formal mentorship, my development has been shaped more by serendipitous events and self-directed exploration.
As a young designer, I found myself inspired by the work of designers like Emil Ruder, Herbert Spencer, Jan Tschichold and Paul Rand. And meeting Rudy VanderLans at the beginning of my career was a huge influence as well. His formal design education from the KABK in Holland was completely unlike mine, and his practice unveiled a completely different approach.
What’s next for you? Any upcoming projects or collaborations?
Recently, I’ve been working on ceramic work and finding it to be a fascinating extension of type design. I’m also working on fabric prints, where the elements are created as fonts, which I configure into various patterns. This work with physical media is actually something of a reaction against everything being consumed digitally these days.
While we still have a few new typeface designs in production, we’re not in any rush to keep expanding our library at the pace we used to maintain. Instead, we’re focusing more on marketing and promoting our existing library, finding novel ways to show our existing fonts in new contexts. It’s quite challenging and creatively satisfying to use fonts with a history in unexpected ways. Most of all, we hope to continue doing this work and remain independent for a long time to come. That’s really what matters most to us, maintaining our independence while continuing to explore creative possibilities.
If you could collaborate with anyone, who would it be and why?
I’d like to collaborate with manufacturers to see my work produced at a larger scale, such as public sculptures and commercial textile weaving.
Any final thoughts or advice for emerging talent?
I think it’s healthy to constantly ask yourself whether what you do has value. Not just commercially, but also culturally, technically and artistically. So my advice would be to think beyond just adding one more variation, explore other venues, question assumptions, and find your own path.
Most importantly, remember that everything you do in life has an effect on others. Try to be aware of the things you do beyond what’s right in front of you.
