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.

Three lingual, 16 pages article about the genesis of the Instant typeface. Published in Typografische Monatsblätter / Revue Suisse de l'imprimerie / Swiss Typographic Magazine, N°6, 2012. Written by Jérôme Knebusch. Free PDF download on link below.

Rudolf Koch's and Fritz Kredel's remarkable Blumenbuch [the flower book] was published several times between 1929 and 1942, from pocket book editions to precious volumes and portfolios, involving many collaborators, printers and publishers like Mainzer Presse, Ernst-Ludwig-Presse in Darmstadt and Insel-Verlag, Leipzig. The essay by Jérôme Knebusch compiles a detailed chronology of the different editions and presents rare and unpublished material from the archives of the Klingspor Museum, Offenbach am Main. About the Blumenbuch is the first of the Poem Pamphlet series edited by Alice Savoie and Jérôme Knebusch.

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.