The graphic presentation of language

Michael Twyman University o f Reading

IntroductionThe main purpose of this paper is to draw atten­tion to the significance of what I shall call the ‘language element* in graphic communication. Like most of the contributors to this seminar, I have no time to do more than raise a few issues and

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pose a few questions.By the language element in graphic communica­

tion I mean the relationship between information content and its visual presentation (and, of course, this must take into account the users of the language, the circumstances of use and many other factors as well). Let me illustrate what I mean by two examples separated by many hundreds of years. As it happens they were brought to my attention on the very day I was pondering about what I should talk about at this seminar.

In the case of the first example (figures 1-4), I was in the position of a disgruntled client. I had prepared a list of research interests of members of staff of our deparment for publication in a uni­versity postgraduate prospectus. The copy was structured on a typewriter—not very elegantly it is true—as a simple table (figures 1, 2). And the copy was written with this structure in mind. In the

This paper draws attention to the ‘language element * o f graphic communication. I t is argued that we need better tools for thinking about this and related matters; models are proposed which draw attention to general issues and aim to help break down barriers between different means o f production. I t is proposed that such general issues should be discussed at all levels of education because designers o f graphic messages in the future are increasingly likely to be non-specialists. Finally, it is suggested that only in the light o f a serious study o f graphic language requirements will we be in a position to design satisfactory new systems and make good use o f them .

work as published (figures 3, 4) the copy was re­ordered as continuous prose without my know­ledge and without any more than a few trivial alterations being made to the wording. You will notice that I did not say without any changes being made to the message, because it seems abundantly clear to me that the message has been sufficiently stifled as to have become almost mute. The signi­ficant issue in this context is that the precious relationship between content and form has beenlost.

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Shortly after drafting a note of complaint to the appropriate colleague, I left for an apppointment with a medieval historian who wanted me to take a look at some copies of thirteenth- and fourteenth- century documents she had been working on, and which displayed some rather odd features (figures 5, 6). She was fascinated by the fact that these cartularies or registers presented their information in different ways; in fact, different parts of the same cartularies sometimes organized similar copy differently. On the left (figure 5) is a cartulary of the late thirteenth century in which the items and their values are presented as a list or simple table; and the word ‘summa’ appears after each group

where the items are totalled. On the right (figure 6) is another cartulary of the same period in which all the items shown are presented as continuous prose. Both these approaches were adopted in some of the cartularies we looked at. We spent some hours looking at these items, and the only satis­factory conclusion we came to which would explain the different configurations, was that some parts of the documents were more important than others and needed to be understood easily. They were therefore organized as lists or simple tables, while other parts were organized as continuous prose, possibly to save space and materials.

The link with the postgraduate prospectus (figures 1-4) will, I hope, be obvious. And you will appreciate that I returned to my note of complaint with renewed vigour.

Such matters of configuration are central to all language when presented graphically and they apply quite as much, perhaps even more, to the newer technologies than they do to printing. They are particularly pertinent in relation to Prestei where there is a direct trade-off between time

(which costs money) and space. To make this point I have organized the information for the post­graduate prospectus shown in figures 2 and 4 on a simulated Prestei frame as a simple table (figure 7) and as continuous, but almost illegible, prose (figure 8).

So much by way o f introduction to my theme. At a time when technology is developing rapidly, more rapidly than ever before in the history o f graphic communication, it seems pertinent to ask the question ‘How are we using the latest techno­logical developments in relation to the language o f the messages that need to be communicated?’.

In stressing the language element o f communica­tion I hope not to be branded as an anti-techno­logist. All the same, it seems to me that in our concern for innovation in terms o f technology we may have neglected other things. Certainly the language element seems to have been left out o f account in discussions o f recent developments in graphic communication; indeed, there is very little reference to it in the literature relating to the manuscript and printed ages either.

The language element and technologyWhat I am calling the language element is the common denominator in graphic communication; it is affected by the particular technology being used, o f course, yet it remains constant in terms o f its function. Two illustrations make this point (figures 9, 10). They relate to the other great tech­nological revolution in our field: the introduction o f printing in the fifteenth century. Figure 9 is the manuscript exemplar used as copy for figure 10, which was printed in Utrecht around 1473'. The printed version copies the manuscript exemplar fairly closely in terms o f the style o f its letterforms and decoration, but departs from it in other respects. The manuscript version has its text in two columns, which works well because o f the flexibility offered by the pen in making contractions and subtle adjustments o f letter and word spacing. The printed version needed a longer line to make justification work effectively and so was set as a single block o f type. The rubric in the manuscript version (lines 11 and 12 of the second column), tells us that the second book ends and the

third one begins; it stands out because it is in red and needs no additional space around it. In the printed version, all the colour was added by hand. It would have been inappropriate on a number of grounds to hand letter the ‘Explicit* line, so it had to be in black. But to give it the necessary distinction, it was separated from its neighbouring text by a line space on either side. The function of the language is the same in both versions, but the graphic treatment responds to the particular technology being used.

You may see all this as being far removed from the problems of the electronic age and the theme of this seminar, but I do not think it is. In some

technologies, such as videotex, where colour is cheap and space is as much at a premium as it was when expensive parchment was the staple material for graphic communication, we may have much to learn from the manuscript age. I would like to suggest therefore that we keep am historical perspective on graphic language in order to see the continuity of the language element. Marshall McLuhan*s tripartite division of communication into the manuscript age, the printed age and the electronic age—perceptive though it was at the time—suggests a certain exclusiveness. Hand­writing did not disappear with the invention of printings a military manual lithographed in Metz

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The study of the language elementWhat I am leading up to is an appeal for a serious study of graphic language, analogous to the dis­cipline of Linguistic Science, so that we have a good understanding of the nature of the language element right across the board; that is, in relation to handwriting, typing, word processing, printing and videotex. In our department of Typography & Graphic Communication at Reading University

in 1840 (figure 11) and a catalogue o f camping equipment produced in the Netherlands recently (figure 12) (both o f which were written throughout by hand) illustrate this point. I have no doubt that we shall be considering the three areas o f com­munication alongside one another for some years to come.

My argument is that we should concentrate on— and should certainly not neglect—the element o f graphic communication that is the common denominator o f the three major means o f produc­tion. It goes without saying that the graphic forms of the three major technologies often differ con­siderably from one another; we have, therefore, to ask ourselves how each of these different forms can be made to respond to our needs. There is a real danger, it seems to me, that the electronic age will take as its one and only influence the world of printing, without taking into account the contribu­tions o f the manuscript age. There are however clear similarities between this detail from a calendar in a fourteenth-century French Missal and a videotex calendar o f recent events produced for this seminar on a Prestei simulator. [These similarities are not evident in monochrome and so the items are not reproduced here.] We have to remind ourselves that it was only with the invention of printing that books became predominantly mono­chrome, and that for the first time since the middle ages we have an opportunity to develop ways of using colour in graphic language at no extra cost.

time, and is engaged in a variety o f design assign­ments right across the technological board. Though we may be nowhere near the sharp end of the technological blade, I think we know some­thing o f the problems o f working as com* municators in the real world. I mention this only to crave the indulgence o f sceptics over what I am about to say.

Spoken and graphic languageThe first o f the three models I should like to introduce aims to clarify the relationship between spoken and graphic language. Linguistic scientists this century have tended to neglect graphic language, though I am happy to say there are signs that this is being remedied. But the overall model from which they start is not at all helpful to graphic designers: it merely takes as a starting point the distinction between spoken and written language. The basic model o f graphic designers, in so far as it can be said that there is one, tends to take as the prime distinction whether something is verbal or pictorial. The differences between these two approaches is shown in figure 13. The model I am introducing is an attempt to reconcile the two approaches. In this model (figure 14) the starting point is the way in which a message is received, rather than the way in which it is transmitted. It begins therefore with ‘Aural* on the one side and

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‘Visual’ on the other. The visual branch is divided into ‘Graphic* and ‘Non-graphic’ (the primary meaning of the word graphic relates to writing or drawing and the word is used in this sense). There are, o f course, many aspects o f visual communica­tion-such as gesture and facial expression—that are non-graphic, and they too are catered for in the model. The graphic branch divides into three: ‘Verbal’ and ‘Pictorial’ speak for themselves; by ‘Schematic’ is meant those graphic images that are neither verbal nor pictorial. The verbal branch divides into ‘Hand-made’ (which gives us writing)

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we have been concerned with such issues over the last ten years and have tried to develop some models for considering various aspects of language in relation to graphic communication.

Some may be suspicious of the use of models and other theoretical approaches in what is essentially a practical subject. To such people I would say that there are times for theorizing and times for pragmatic decision-making and that, on balance, the very circumstances in which most of us work determine that the scales are tilted very much in the direction of the latter, I should also say in parentheses—for those of you who might have begun to switch off already—that our department is no ivory tower: it functions as a small printing house, publishes a few modest titles from time to

videotex messages. The term Verbal Graphic Language, which we have shortened to VGL for convenience* allows us to draw attention to the common problems associated with designing for very different systems.

Configurations and modes of graphics

languageMy second model, which has been described at length elsewhere,2 seeks to identify the principal options open to anyone using graphic language. It takes the form of a matrix (figure 15). The top headings of this matrix define the major configura­tions or ways o f organizing graphic language. Linearity is a characteristic o f speech that is almost impossible to find equivalents for in graphic language, but the configurations begin with pure linearity to the left and end with non-linearity to the right. In between these two extremes are the conventional configurations o f graphic language

and ‘Machine-made’ (which includes such means of production as printing, typing and videotex). The pictorial and schematic branches could be similarly divided into hand-made and machine- made if necessary. It would be for linguisticscientists to explore the ‘Aural’ branch on the left- hand side o f the model. I have satisfied myself with the simple division between ‘Verbal’ and ‘Non-verbal’ (non-verbal including anything from grunts to music). The model as a whole makes a clear distinction between what I am calling ‘channel’ and ‘mode’, which are confused in the two simple models presented in figure 13.

The model reproduced as figure 14 also explains the derivation of the term Verbal Graphic Language, which we have used in our department for some years now to cover the use o f words in all graphic technologies. In English we have no real equivalent to the German word Schrift, which accommodates handwriting, printing, typing and

(linear interrupted—the normal graphic approxi­mation to the linearity of speech—then lists) branching structures and matrices). The side headings define the principal modes of symboliza­tion: words (including numerals), pictures and words combined, pictures on their own, and schematic images,) It may help tf I show a few examples to illustrate the characteristics of some of the cells of the matrix.

The first set of examples illustrates the con­figuration described as ‘Linear interrupted* (figures 16-19), This configuration is best known, of course, in the verbal mode (figure 16), Most people would call it continuous text. I call it linear interrupted in this context to emphasize that line endings are artlfical breaks to the linearity of language. But though it evolved in connection with verbal language, the configuration is also used when organizing pictures, both with words as in comics (figure 17) and without them as in the cycle of frescoes painted on the walls of the Arena chapel in Padua by Giotto in the early fourteenth century (figure 18), In certain specialized fields, such as music, the linear interrupted configuration is also used with the schematic mode (figure 19).

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The second set of examples illustrates the con­figuration described as ‘Matrix* (figures 20-3), The football league table (figure 20) demonstrates one of the best-known applications of the verbal mode in this configuration; figure 21, which includes both pictures and words, falls into the combined pictorial and verbal mode; the delightful illustration for the Sunday Times (figure 22), which shows the rise and fall of the mini skirt by means of the pictures themselves, falls info the pictorial mode (I am prepared to accept the logos of the magazines as being pictures in this case). The use of the schematic mode in relation to the matrix configuration is illustrated in figure 23, wfateh displays systematically some of the spacing unitsused in printing.

Though I have shown particular examples to illus­trate a number of configurations and modes, I should like to stress that I am not suggesting that all graphic language has to fit neatly into one of the cells defined by the matrix shown in figure 15. I am suggesting that the cells define characteristics of graphic language that come in innumerable mixes. What is inescapable, however, is that in every situation in which graphic language is used, we have to make choices about the method of configuration and the mode of symbolization we

use. And this applies whether we act intuitively as laypeople or in a considered way as professionals. I put it to you that even professional people fail to make considered choices on occasions, because they do not always take into account the range of possibilities open to them. Decisions are often, perhaps usually, pre-empted by precedent; we frequently do things the way they have been done before simply because we do not stop to think. Decision-making in this area seems to be of particular importance in relation to the new technologies for two reasons: first, because the limited formats of VDUs and the crudeness of character design for them has put a premium on the configuration of language; and secondly, because for the first time since the invention of printing we are using systems that put words and pictures on an almost equal footing.

The model I have just been referring to was devised with no particular technology in mind; indeed, I would like to think that it is applicable to all technologies. It is worth remembering however

that many technologies impose constraints of such a kind as to make it impossible, or at least very difficult, to do certain kinds of things with them. I hope this model may encourage designers of graphic language systems to take into account the scope of graphic language requirements in terms of both mode of symbolization and method of confi­guration before they go too far down any one particular path.

Intrinsic and extrinsic features of languageMy third model is, superficially at least, a very simple one; and it relates only to verbal graphic language. It makes a simple distinction between what are being called intrinsic and extrinsic features of verbal graphic language (VGL). As it happens, this idea is much more easily described in words than in the form of a diagram, but to be consistent I am showing an illustration (figure 24).

By ‘Intrinsic* is meant those features of VGL that reside in the characters themselves and, more particularly, in the system that produces those characters. The term ‘Character set* is the range of characters readily available on a given system (what the printer might call fount); particular intrinsic features, such as italics, bolds, small capitals, size of letterforms and style of letter- forms, all speak for themselves. By ‘Extrinsic* is meant what can be done to those characters or sets of characters by changing their configuration, controlling the space between them or changing their colour. Spatial features can be distinguished at the micro level (in relation to inter-character spacing, inter-word spacing or position of sub and superscripts) and also at the macro level in relation to the spacing of larger units of text.

The most obvious intrinsic feature is character set or fount. We know a lot about this feature of language—and I speak now as someone brought up on print—because it is the range of the character set that determines the subtlety of our typographic

expression. It was the great scholar printer Robert Estienne who regularly began to introduce italics for particular functions in the sixteenth century (figures 25, 26) and we have followed suit ever since (at least those of us with italics to use). Bold types began to be used in dictionaries, directories, timetables and schoolbooks in the course of the nineteenth century and, though not perhaps used in quite such conventional ways as italics, some would see them as being almost as important in language terms (figures 27, 28). In the context of a

seminar on the newer technologies it would be indecent to do more than refer to the thousands of different characters shown by Legros and Grant in their standard work Typographicalprinting-surfaces published in 1916, that is, fairly early on in the development of machine composition. I shall limit myself to showing their ordinary fount of type con­sisting of 275 characters (figure 29), together with a small selection of their special characters (figure 30). The American typographer De Vinne pub­lished a similar fount in his Plain printing types

which first appeared in 1899 (figure 31); his total of 253 characters was slightly smaller than that of Legros and Gram. But Legros and Grant in England and De Vinne in America were in a different language league from those wedded to the mere 96 characters available to videotex users (presented in figure 32 in much the same form as De Vinne presented his fount of type). It is worth noting the absence of italics and accented characters and that there are only three fractions and just one unit of space.

Extrinsic features of graphic language may be

represented by a simple comparison (figures 33, 34), The configuration of figure 33 is that of continuous prose (what I have called linear inter* rupted), while in figure 34 the material is presented as a two-column graphic list. The linguistic structure in both is almost identical and, as it happens, the examples are taken from the same publication. I can only imagine that the difference between the two was the result of an editorial oversight, but it provides a good demon­stration of the effect on language of the extrinsic feature of configuration.

It may well be that we are now witnessing a shift of emphasis in graphic language from intrinsic to extrinsic features with the introduction of the newer technologies. A comparison of examples illustrates this point. The set of bibliographical entries shown in figure 35 was composed on a "Monotype5 hot-metal machine and takes full advantage of the range of characters offered by such a system of composition. A similar set of items shown in figure 36 was composed on a machine of more limited typographic capacity, an IBM 72 Composer. In order to compensate for the

deficiency of the system in terms of intrinsic features, the presentation falls back on extrinsic ones, such as the organization of units of informa­tion on separate lines and the use of additional space between each item.

Intrinsic features are governed by the composi­tion systems used; if the system has no small capitals (or means of making small capitals), then small capitals cannot easily be used. Extrinsic features are partly governed by the composition system itself and partly not; whether a table can be formatted in a particular way may be absolute in

terms o f some VDU systems, but in printing the limitations of certain composition systems may be compensated for at a later stage (for instance, at the page make-up stage). Figure 37 attempts to show how the issue o f intrinsic and extrinsic features relates to the composition system being used. Four very different systems o f composition have been selected for comparison and are shown in the first column o f the diagram (manuscript; printing using ‘Monotype’ hot-metal composition; printing using CRTronic photocomposition; videotex id its Prestei form). They are related in the diagram to the intrinsic and extrinsic features previously dis­cussed. The solid dots beside features indicate that the particular issues are pre-determined at the composition stage. The open dots indicate that decisions may be made at the composition stage. The absence o f a dot indicates that the decision

can be made at a later stage of production (that is, after composition is completed). Figure 37 wasdesigned to encourage discussion about thecapacity and flexibility of composition systems in conceptual terms. There are problems o f inter­pretation in particular areas because o f the difficulty o f defining certain functions. All the same, some things seem to emerge from it that may be o f interest. It reveals, for instance, that what is pre-determined is greatest with videotex, thoughvideotex differs from some forms of printing in allowing certain issues (such as colour and macro spacing) to be decided at the composition stage. In these respects videotex appears to have more incommon with manuscript than with printing.

Whether the three models I have introduced here somewhat superficially are understood in detail is o f no great consequence. More important by far from my point o f view is the general issue they were designed to make in the context o f this seminar.

Typography as linguistic scienceThe major objective in discussing the three models above was to suggest that we should engage in a serious study of verbal graphic language in much the same way as linguistic scientists have studied spoken language. We need to know much more about the language we use and its circumstances of use. I venture to suggest that only in one area have we applied the kind o f descriptive and analytical techniques that are appropriate to a serious study of graphic language. That area is the field of letterforms where between them palaeographers, epigraphers, type designers and manufacturers, historians o f printing and, more recently, computer scientists have constructed a theoretical framework that allows them (though with difficulty on occasions) to talk to one another. The real problem is that the words we use to describe letterforms are bounded by particular techno-

logies. But at least we have begun to address the problem in the field o f letterforms, whereas in many other areas o f verbal graphic language we have chosen to shy away from the problem, or perhaps have not even noticed that there is one.

It seems to me self-evident that only when we know what the characteristics o f verbal graphic language are can we begin to design effectively for it. We are guilty o f putting the cart before the horse: we design systems and then wait for users to fit their language to them—or shout if they cannot. Two examples will illustrate what I mean.

In 1974 I was invited by the BBC to commenton typographic aspects of CBEFÂX; I think I was the first typographer to be consulted, though I cannot be sure of that. The whole matter is now ancient history in videotex terms, so I think I am not being too indiscreet in talking about it. At that stage CEEFAX was operating experimentally, and in capitals only. I pointed out that small letters (I do not call them lower-case for reasons that must be obvious) are part of the requirements o f our language and must be included in the character

set. Whether it was as a direct result o f what I said or not, I shall never know, but small letters wereintroduced shortly afterwards. By this time, however, the system of 24 rows o f characterscomposed on a coarse dot matrix could not bechanged. This system was determined with all- capital displays in mind and small letters could only be introduced by taking up some of the already precious inter-row space. The result is that the small letters on all British videotex systems tend to look rather worse than all-capital displays, and this is because the constraints o f the broadcast systems have been inherited by the wired videotexsystem. Prestei.

Another example o f technology having an in­fluence on our graphic language can be seen in the fluctuating use o f text running around illustra­tions. In the nineteenth century, when labour was cheap and wood-engraving (figure 38) and later process-engraving (figure 39) provided a relatively convenient and economical way o f printing illus­trations along with text, run-arounds were common. With the introduction of composing

machines at the tail-end of the century it became relatively cheaper to set text to a constant measure,so run-arounds tended to disappear from the scene. In recent years, with the introduction of computer-controlled photocomposition, it has again become an economic proposition to have run-arounds; sowe have them again, not just around pictures (figure 40), but sometimes around displayed words (figure 41).

We must surely ask ourselves whether run­arounds are a good thing in terms of what needs to be said and the people to whom it has to be said. Though it is inevitable that economic issues

will have a bearing on what is done in graphic language, I think we should ask of a system what we require of it in order to communicate with one another effectively and not let the system determine our requirements.

The role of the laypersonMore than ever before there is a need for us to study the nature of graphic language, and par­ticularly verbal graphic language. And this is because our systems of graphic communication are becoming interactive and reaching into most walks of life. For the first time since the invention of

printing the design of graphic language (at least on its extrinsic side) has begun to pass from the specialist to the layperson. The control of the primer and publisher over the organization of graphic language, which has been such a powerful force over the last 500 years, is clearly on the wane. Whether we regard this as a matter for rejoicing or regret, we have to accept the fact. And we may now be approaching a situation in which the ordinary literate person will have almost as much control over what is presented graphically as over what is spoken.

I f past experience is anything to go by* we mustbe prepared for absurdities to occur* In order to avoid treading on typographic toes—at least living ones—I reproduce an example from an earlier tech­nological revolution, that of the typewriter (figure 42), It is taken from an early typing manual and illustrates the typing of tables. As can be seen, the consequences of typing the headings of the table on the right-hand page bottom to top, leads to their appearing upside down when the table is printed landscape in a book format.

EducationThe discussion of the role of the layperson in relation to the new technology and the need to avoid the kind of absurdity shown in figure 42 brings me to the question of education.

By education, I mean anything from primary school level through to university or retraining on the job. It follows from what I said earlier about interactive aspects of verbal graphic language that I believe most people will need to be educated to design messages graphically. I use the word

educated rather than trained advisedly in order to stress the importance of understanding and learning general principles* I believe we have been strong on prescriptions and not sufficiently con* cerned with establishing fundamental principles of Visual organization of language that may perhaps hold good over long periods of time, in different situations, and across technological boundaries. Verbal graphic language, like spoken language, is evolutionary and there ought to be scope for such evolution in any educational programme. Research undertaken in our department by Susan Walker on the way letters have been typed and written reveals what one would expect: that conventions change over the years, albeit gradually. Even that pillar of tradition in verbal graphic language. Hart’s Rules, has changed since its first appearance in 1893 (figures 43,44). Walker has compiled a number of charts derived from Hart’s Rules: the one shown here deals with abbreviations and the detail from it (figure 44) reveals the stage at which the full point was dropped after Dr, Mr and Mrs between the 1967 and 1978 editions.

Yet despite these evident changes in language, teachers in schools are continuing to promote those conventions they themselves learnt when they were children. At a time when even Hart is recommending presenting dates in the form shown in figure 45, children are still being taught in precise terms that the correct form is as in figure 46. Children’s writing manuals are just as much to blame in this respect. They present prescriptions for the presentation and punctuation of addresses and children learn them at school and then follow them blindly into adulthood (figure 47).

All this may seem a long way from the theme of this seminar; though I really do not think it is. The technological developments that bring us all together will make the present generation of children the typographers—-the designers of verbal graphic language—of the future.

Graphic transia lability of textFinally, I should like to say a few words about another issue that concerns me greatly at present, and that we have called the graphic translatability of text. It is the subject of a research project in our department funded by the British Library. By graphic translatability of text we mean, in short, the impact of technology on graphic language.

The resources of conventional printing and, before the invention of printing, those of manuscript production, have provided great flexi­bility both in terms of the range of characters we use and the ways in which they can be arranged (the intrinsic and extrinsic features referred to above). This research is concerned with the way in which the newer technologies can cope with the language requirements of communication. The term graphic translatability of text has been chosen to emphasize the nature of the problem when con­verting graphic language from a system with one range of resources to another in which the range is different.

We all know that the rapid development of electronic technology has led to the increasing use of composing systems of limited capability (such as computer output printers, word processors and videotex) for the preparation and dissemination of a wide range of material. We argue that such systems impose enormous constraints on the way we use graphic language and on what we can say. But unfortunately our society’s boundless enthusiasm for what is new has led it to overlook or close its eyes to some of the problems. When it is said in the House of Commons that it would soon be possible to convert the whole of the Houses of Parliament Library to floppy discs, the point cannot be denied. But at what a loss! And the loss I am referring to is not just the loss of what might be called loss of visual quality. I mean a loss of efficiency in use and a loss of nuances of meaning arising from the conversion of language

from high-level systems of composition to low- level ones.

Until we know the range of graphic translationproblems facing us, it is hard to see how systems can be designed to cope with them. How, forinstance, are the items illustrated in figures 48-51 to be catered for in the future?

The author and publisher wish to thank the Dean and Chapter of Norwich Cathedral for permission to reproduce items 5 and 8 and Dr Wytze G$ Hellinga and North-HoNand Publishing Company for permission to reproduce items 9 and 10 (which were photographed by P. D. van der Poel).

In this issueIn this issue we return to more graphic themes. In the first paper, Michael Twyman argues that new graphic media can only be properly designed from an understanding of the language element’ of graphic communication. His argument, rooted in historical precedent, is that certain constant language structures can be found across different media and different eras in spite of different technical constraints. A serious study of these is needed if information designers are to be able to tell the engineers what the users of the new electronic systems really need.

Although independently developed, the Information mapping’ system of structured writing no doubt has its own precedents. In this issue it is critically examined by James Hartley. David Bartram and Camille Rowe report two independent although parallel experimental studies of a less easily defined aspect of typography—its expressive effect. Bartram

Special notice: returned correspondenceSome correspondents had their letters returned as undeiiverable by the Milton Keynes Post Office m January of this year. W ithout consultation, reason or authority they closed our Post Office Box and returned mail for a period o f about three weeks. They have apologised and accepted responsibility for their error. We pass on this apology to frustrated correspondents and urge you to write again. Our correct postal address for subscriptions is, as before, PO Box 186, Milton Keynes MK7 8BL

Contents

* The graphic presentation o f language Michael Twyman 2

Design analysis and design history: a review of 'Industrial design? by John HeskettPauline Madge 23

* The connotative dimensions of selected display typefacesCamille L Rowe 30

* The perception of semantic quality in type: differences between designers and non-designersDavid Bartram 38

Information mapping: a critiqueJames Hartley 51

Design and the university: the pragmatic and the pureAndrew M Tomcik 59

Book reviewsDouglas Rose, The London Underground: a diagrammatic history 67

Randall P Harrison, The cartoon: communication to the quick 67

Casey Miller and Kate Swift, The handbook of non- sexist writing fo r writers, editors and speakers 68

Jon Wagner, Images of information: still photography in the social sciences 70

Brkh Vanacek, Experimenteile Beitrãge zur Wahmehmbarkeit kartographischer Signaturen 12

Jeremy J Foster, Legibility research 1972-1978: al - fsummary 75

Design reviewMichael Kidron and Ronald Segal, The state of the world atlas 77

Information design journal Volume 3/1 1982 ISSN 0142-5471