Until the advent of talking pictures, cinema had been referred to as silent. To compensate for the absence of sound, films were punctuated by numerous ‘intertitles’ containing a fixed text, interspersed among the sequences of moving images. Intertitles could be hand-painted on thick paper or glass plates, using brushes or round-tipped nibs, by teams of letterers capable of producing up to 100 cards a day. Yet today we know almost nothing about these technically gifted craftsmen. However, at the end of the 1910s, in the United States, the name of a technician occasionally appeared in the film credits: that of Victor Vance, a letterer associated with the Warner Bros. studio. His distinctive style of lettering, constant over the years, was based on a virtuosic use of the brush. Considered a ‘title-artist’, he also wrote in 1930 an article on how to paint intertitles. This account sheds valuable and precise light on the methods used to produce intertitles and the way these objects were viewed at the time. Written by Julien Van Anholt and edited by Alice Savoie and Jérôme Knebusch in the Poem Pamphlet series.

In the mid-nineteenth century, the French Ministry of the Navy ordered all fishermen to register with local authorities. Drifter boats and sardine luggers were henceforth required to sport a clearly visible number and initial letter on their bows and sails, in order to help the gendarmes identify them. Boat numbers followed a consistent ‘Didot’ style until the mid-1880s before they began to shift. Blackletter initials occasionally popped up on hulls, as did ornamental squares or diamonds. Rounded letters opened up to the point of illegibility, ending in assertive ball terminals and spectacular bifurcations (or ‘barbs’) appeared at the feet of numerals with vertical stems. According to some old seadogs, the alphabet à barbes was invented to make the figures ‘favourable for fishing’ and to bring good fortune. But other witnesses rejected this superstitious idea. Far from being incompatible, these viewpoints provide insights into the varied perspectives of seafarers. Written by Yoann De Roeck and edited by Alice Savoie and Jérôme Knebusch in the Poem Pamphlet series.

‘La page projetée. Livres fictionnels au cinéma’ [The projected page. Fictionnal books in movies] is a pedagogical project led by the Institut Page at ESAL Metz, in collaboration with Léo Coquet, Elamine Maecha, and the institute's students. We analyzed existing films that feature fictional books – books that appear only on screen and were never actually edited or published. These books are often reduced to their physical appearance as cinematic props, typically limited to a cover. Yet they actively contribute to the narrative and, in some cases, even extend it. The research project was presented during The 2024 Biennale Exemplaires in Valence and a one-day symposium in Metz, featuring Agatha Masa, officeabc, Alice Planes, and Pierre Leguillon. This event was promoted via social media and a printed poster. A (filled) popcorn cup was handed out at the entrance of the symposium, with the program printed on it.

It is usually believed that the typefounder Robert Thorne (1753–1820) was the first to have introduced in the early 19th century the ‘fat face’, a swollen offspring of the new ‘modern’ types then in vogue. Sébastien Morlighem’s essay intends to reassess his precise role in its development as well as other English founders. It is built on a re-reading of several key texts and a careful survey of original specimen books from the Thorne, Caslon & Catherwood, Fry & Steele and Figgins foundries. Edited by Alice Savoie and Jérôme Knebusch in the Poem Pamphlet series.