'Classifying Signs' by Harry Leeson

Better Letters -

I am often contacted by design and communication students doing research into various facets of sign painting, ghost signs, and public lettering, and I love to see the work that they produce. I help in a variety of ways, including sharing articles I've written, and links to other writing of relevance to their work.

One of the articles I've found myself recommending a lot over the years is 'Classifying Signs' by Harry Leeson, but it has never been available online since it was first published in The Recorder by Monotype in 2014. I finally got in touch with Leeson to ask if I could make the following digital copy available, and he kindly said 'yes'.

Classifying Signs

By Harry Leeson

Public lettering has always been intriguing. Whether as a source of inspiration for designers and practitioners, a form of typographic archaeology, or simply as part of our everyday experience of the city, vernacular signage plays an enormous cultural role. In an early publication on the subject, entitled Signs in Action, James Sutton cast a critical eye over the public lettering of 1960s era London, with the aim of improving the field of signage design and the general typographical appearance of the city. He argued that while signage “can offer wide opportunities for lively and original work”, the field is rather neglected. It's a point that still holds true today.

Other authors have been more concerned with nostalgia, and lettering's historic resonance. Stephen Banham's Characters: Cultural Stories Revealed Through Typography focuses on the city of Melbourne, and in particular the untold stories behind some of the city's much-loved historic signage, including some of its elaborate neon works.

But aside from its vibrant design history, examining the subject raises questions about how public lettering affects our relationship with the surrounding environment, and more particularly the social cues it offers. So, what has class got to do with graphic design? The answer, it would appear, is quite a lot.

Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu puts forward the theory that the key determining factor of social status lies in taste. He suggests that this isn't something we're born with, but something that's closely tied to our education and social origin, determining ideas of what is in ‘good’ or ‘bad’ taste. Bourdieu asserts that the distinctions in taste create barriers between classes — in much the same way that the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ signage in London acts as a signifier for the different boroughs of London.

How does a sociologist's ideas on taste and class relate to urban signage? It's evident in the stark contrast between the different London areas’ use of visual language, and the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ examples of typography from borough to borough. It's there in the conflict between the authoritative sans serifs of Hampstead, and the hastily pasted plastic signage of Southwark; the Goudy-style blackletter of Kensington and the informal mishmash of typographic styles on Peckham's shop fronts.

Street signs from two of London's socially contrasting areas — Kensington and Southwark — offer a concise visual demonstration. Walking round parts of Kensington reveals a consistent use of serif typefaces, combined with carefully crafted execution and use of material. This ranges from personalised door numbering to the public signage that fills Kensington Gardens. The blackletter script Kensington uses for its signs — potentially hand-lettered originally, and then repeated — is paired with Kindersley for the street name. The use of blackletter suggests the borough's royal status, conveying heritage and prestige. It's in stark contrast to the signage found in the council estates of Southwark, which rely on laminated plastic plaques that demonstrate little or no consideration for their impact on the character of the area.

Phil Baines and Catherine Dixon also hinted at the impact of public lettering in Signs: Lettering in the Environment, published in 2003, stating that:

“In addition to directing and instructing you in your way finding, public lettering can contribute to the way in which we identify, and to some degree, respond to the space and places we visit.”

This is also apparent in London's many and varied shop fronts, which play a key role in the typographic language of an area.

The shopfronts of Peckham, in the London Borough of Southwark, reveal a riot of typographic styles and letterforms, with serif, slab serif, sans serif and imitation handwriting combining to reveal an absence of any formal typographic education. This ‘education’ — if we consider Bourdieu — is one that is based on what is considered 'good taste' in design. In the middle-class environments of Kensington and Hampstead, shopfronts use more formality and refinement, with greater consideration for the relationships between type, colour, design and environment. One store on Dukes Lane uses an elegant serif font cast in metal against the shop's understated colour scheme. In harsh comparison with the shopfronts of less privileged areas, the language is minimal, and its placement and scale reveal a much more considered overall composition.

Interestingly, it seems typographical consistency may owe something to strict local council guidelines. The Shopfront Design Guidelines Supplementary Planning Document (SPD) for the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea recognises the contribution of shopfronts, stating that they “play a key part in establishing and defining the visual character of our high streets”. The same guidelines make clear provisions for a consistent design style, advocating for uncluttered shopfronts, and avoidance of excessive signage or superfluous content.

Hampstead also has its own version of design guidelines that govern what cannot be done to building exteriors. The guidelines include much advice about the appearance of shopfronts, which feature the avoidance of strident colours and internally illuminated box signs, as well as expressing concern about security shutters and grilles that are “particularly unattractive”. It's interesting to note that many of the features mentioned are commonly found in the visual language of shopfronts in London's more working-class environments.

How do these restrictions relate to Bourdieu's own theories, and are they a rejection of what is considered ‘bad taste’? If so, what issues does this raise? Such concern about appearance demonstrated by two of London's most middle-class areas highlights an attempt to strike a visual distinction between themselves and other areas of London. In turn, this is a desire to express the distinction in class on the very surface of the city itself.

Perhaps the real issue here is the lack of consistent design regulation across London's boroughs, regardless of their social status. Hampstead and Kensington's strict guidelines offer up a sharp contrast with other areas’ total lack of interest in typographic language. It makes for an even greater counterpoint when the number of design schools in these boroughs — the London College of Communication in Southwark, Goldsmiths in Lewisham, the Sir John Cass Faculty of Art, Architecture and Design at London Metropolitan University in Tower Hamlets — is taken into account. Do these schools need to provide a greater contribution to the visual language of their areas?

Or perhaps, on a more basic level, what is required is a greater understanding of the impact that this seemingly overlooked aspect of visual culture has. An understanding that goes beyond the functional aspect of public lettering to recognise its social, political and cultural contributions.

Thank you to Harry Leeson for giving permission to reproduce this article, which first appeared in Issue 1 of The Recorder from Monotype. And to Alistair Hall for his input into identifying the typefaces used on the Kensington and Chelsea street signs for a small edit to that paragraph.

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