Photo-Lettering
Manzanar Sign Follow-Up
After I posted my article about the Manzanar War Relocation Center’s entrance sign, I received this email:
Josh:
I ran across your Dec 24 entry regarding the Manzanar relocation sign. My father, who was interned there, painted the sign. He passed away four years ago but was a graphic artist who did a lot calligraphic work (even before being relocated). Ansel Adams took several pictures of him (see this link).
He had many books containing various fonts. I donated many of them to the Cerritos Library when he passed away. However, I don’t think that the font he used for the Manzanar sign was in them since he wasn’t able to take much with him to the relocation center.
FYI: Another person who worked in the Manzanar sign shop was Jack Hirose (see this link).
Regards,
Mark
So this information, frankly, changes a lot about what I had originally hypothesized. For one, unless Mr. Matsumoto was told to use a specific lettering style, it was probably his choice to use the blackletter face. And if so, it’s more likely that it was an effort towards beautification, rather than propaganda. Many of those who were forced to live at Manzanar had created gardens, murals, and other creative works to improve the look and feel of what was otherwise a barren and austere place. I suppose then that the “Alpine Resort” feel could have been closer to what the artist was going for, not for propaganda, but in a “making-the-best-of-it” sort of way.
Thanks very much to Mark Matsumoto for sharing his father’s story.
What’s in a Font—The Manzanar War Relocation Center Sign
Update (January 5, 2010): After posting this article, I received an email from Mark Matsumoto, whose father, Akio Matsumoto, was a commercial artist interned at Manzanar during the War. According to Mark, Akio Matsumoto was the person who painted the sign. Needless to say, this information drastically affects my original theories about the sign’s lettering! I’ve posted a follow-up with more information.
I just returned from a brief vacation to Mammoth Mountain, and on the way back down to Los Angeles we stopped at the Manzanar National Historic Site, former home to the Manzanar “War Relocation Center,” an American concentration camp for thousands of Japanese-Americans during World War II. Despite Manzanar’s picturesque location, the site is a haunting reminder of just how bad things can become when the U.S. ignores its constitution.
Many comparisons have been made between the Americans’ use of concentration camps and those used by the Nazis. With this in mind, I was struck by the lettering used on the Manzanar entrance sign, which bears resemblance to the blackletter styles appropriated by the Nazis during the first years of the second World War. The Nazi party’s use of these blackletter forms was very much a purposeful message (for more information on the topic I would recommend reading Iron Fists: Branding the 20th-Century Totalitarian State by Steven Heller). It seems odd that, at the same time as the United States was at war with Germany, and even detaining German-Americans at camps like Manzanar, the US government would use lettering evocative of the Third Reich. I decided to do some surface-level research to find out more about this lettering decision.
First, I wanted to determine the origin of the lettering style. It appears to be a simplified blackletter, more contemporary than traditional, a modernist version of a Rotunda. After searching through many, many fonts online, I could not find an exact match in digitized form. But perhaps I was using the wrong sign.
Apparently, the sign that stands at Manzanar today is a fairly faithful replica of the original, which was photographed by Ansel Adams in 1943:
However, upon closer comparison between the replica and the original, I’ve noticed a few subtle differences:
- The “M” has a bit of a downward slope in the replica which is not present in the original.
- The letter spacing was somewhat tighter on the original, with the exception of “CENTER,” which is more generously spaced in the original than in the replica.
- The shape of the “R” is wider in the original, and appears condensed in the replica.
I then checked my Photo-Lettering Alphabet Thesaurus, Vol. 2, and found a very close match to the original sign’s lettering in “Seidelburg Heavy” (at right). In Life with Letters, Ed Rondthaler of Photo-Lettering, Inc. provides evidence that his company’s letterforms were used extensively by the U.S. government and military during World War II. In fact, their flagship typeface, Murray Hill Gothic, was used in countless propaganda posters and solicitations for war bonds. It wouldn’t be a stretch, then, to think that perhaps the lettering for the Manzanar sign was chosen out of Photo-Lettering’s offerings and subsequently hand carved in wood. Any irregularities, therefore, could have been artistic choices on the part of the signmaker.
So that is my hypothesis. But then why choose a typeface loaded with Germanic connotations at the same time as America was at war with the Germans? And if the U.S. government was trying to lighten the public perception of what Manzanar was, by using euphemisms like “resettlement” and “relocation” rather than “concentration” or “internment,” it would be counterproductive for them to use signage that resembled that of the enemy.
It’s possible, though, that they just didn’t get it. After all, the U.S. didn’t enter German territory until after D-Day, and so perhaps the connection was not yet made when Manzanar was constructed. It’s also strange that they used a blackletter face in all caps; it’s still legible, but it’s not really in line with how the Nazis usually typeset their blackletter headlines (with the exception of acronyms, e.g. “NSDAP”). But there’s also the possibility that the government wanted to draw a non-political connection between Manzanar’s Alpinesque landscape and that of Northern Europe. Perhaps, in a more sinister way, they wanted to dress up Manzanar as a resort destination, rather than a detainment camp. Playful Gothic lettering is frequently found in period restaurant signage, hotels, ski resorts, and pretty much anywhere that an “Old World” feel is sought. So with that in mind, the Manzanar sign could have been subtle propaganda.
The lettering might have also felt en vogue. The lettering face used also shares a lot in common, geometrically, with some of the faces popular during the 1940s. Here are some images from the Smithsonian’s A More Perfect Union online exhibit, from Camp Amache (another detainment camp like Manzanar):
While the sans-serif lettering styles used in these examples are distinctly 1940s in their appearance, their forms and all-caps presentation share similarities with the simplified blackletter of Seidelburg Heavy. Note the unicase “M”s and “N”s, as well as the parallel legs of the “A”s. Maybe the modernized blackletter simply appeared to be of the times.
Lettering carries meaning. It’s not simply a transparent way of communicating words. I think it’s important that we as designers carefully consider the lettering and type styles that we use, especially in historical context, as their educated use can be far more meaningful than their haphazard and casual application.
As always, I’d be happy to hear from anybody who has more insight into this than my hasty research has unearthed. I’ll gladly update this article with corrections or as I learn more12.
- I’ve added a post on the PictureBubbles° Blog with a spherical panorama of Manzanar Cemetery. [↩]
- As mentioned above, a reader has updated me with further information; please see the follow-up post here. [↩]
NYU Stern Orientation Program print photos
This project has been previously detailed, but I recently photographed the actual booklets for posterity. Here’s how they came out.
Josh & Alyssa Wedding “Save the Date” Postcard
My fiancée Alyssa and I are not typical when it comes to our wedding planning. For one thing, we’re getting married at an unconventional venue, the Los Angeles Natural History Museum. Moreover, we both work in design, and there’s no chance in heck that we’d buy any prepackaged save-the-dates or invitations. No sir. So we’ve spent the better part of the year planning out how our wedding will look, from the décor to the communications, and the first component of this gigantic undertaking is the “Save the Date” postcard that you see before you.
We want our wedding to feel like a party. Not just any party, mind you; more like a 1960s-concert-in-the-park-meets-prehistoric-hipster-safari. Or something like that. We’ve been scouting inspiration from far and wide, and one of the first ideas that hit us was to create a “gig poster” or a vintage-style handbill to inform our potential guests of the basic logistics in advance of the invitation. I’ve designed a whole bunch of save-the-date postcards for Gallatin at NYU (as you can see on the portfolio), but this was obviously a lot more personal. We decided it would be an adventure to silkscreen the invitations ourselves using the “split fountain” technique. It was a popular method of decoration for old concert or boxing posters, but it was usually used in the background to create a bright, colorful gradient on which black type would be set and printed on a letterpress. To stick with the theme, I used a combination of different type and lettering styles, some of which mimic the rough letterpress style of printers like Hatch Show Print in Nashville and Colby Poster Printing Co. here in Los Angeles. Other lettering comes from House’s Photo-Lettering site, such as the “Save the Date” script at the top. We referenced old show prints as well as movie posters (for the “Dino Vision” logo, a pretty blatant rip of the Cinerama logo and the Sinclair dinosaur mark. For the central silhouette illustration, we combined vector traces of two photographs taken by our good friend Sakura Koontz.
The process was remarkably smooth. We’d both done some screenprinting on t-shirts before, but neither of us had any hands-on experience with serigraphy on paper. The stock we chose is French Paper’s Mod-Tone in gray, which comes with a pre-printed pattern. We designed the card to be printed without bleed, 2-up on an 8.5″ by 11″ letter-sized page, allowing us to make a very simple cut and end up with a finished product. (We printed the back side on the cheap using inkjet). Using a Photoshop mockup of the design, we determined that Pantone Orange and Rubine Red would make a nice, yummy “Tequila Sunrise” gradient. Our comp wasn’t far off the mark, but the real-life result was far better than the digital version. Before we knew it, we’d printed up about 150 of them. The right side of the screen had some imperfections in the emulsion which led to some interesting artifacts, while the left side was nearly perfect. I think the variation between different prints is one of the beautiful and lively aspects of hand-printed serigraphs. So even though we sacrifice a bit of legibility, I think we’ve really hit the mark with our attempt at creating a vintage, imperfect look.
Tune in some months from now to see what we do with our invitation!
Another day, another Ed Rondthaler quote

The New York Times masthead Comparison from Ed Rondthaler's book
Avid readers of this blog will remember one of the first posts I made, over a year ago, about a redesign of the Star Waggons logo that I had completed at the time. There may have been some hubris, on my part, in comparing my work to that of the lettering genius Ed Benguiat, but while continuing to read Life With Letters …as they turned photogenic by Ed Rondthaler, I came across a rather familiar looking comparison between the old and new New York Times masthead. Looks like Mr. Rondthaler had made the very same visual comparison when he put this book together back in 1980 or so. Neat!
Plus, the illustration was accompanied by a very informative little blurb, which explains that the project was taken on while Ed Benguiat was an employee of Photo-Lettering, Inc.:
I have been fortunate to witness several great moments in graphic history, but none more overdue than the day the New York Times finally dropped the period from its masthead.
Newspaper mastheads traditionally placed a period after the name, but by 1900 most papers had given up the practice. Even The Enterprise, my father’s little amateur monthly of 1885, had no period. But The New York Times was not one to rush headlong into such change without due consideration. Meanwhile the period appeared day after day and week after week consuming ink, I estimate, at the rate of $84 a year.
It was not until 1966 that the Times concluded there was little to be gained trom further procrastination, and decided to bring its masthead in line with popular usage. It was felt, that appropriate expertise should be sought for the execution of this change, and that it could be combined with minor alterations needed at the Same time. Photo-Lettering was honored in having Ed Benguiat selected to perform the amputation.
The ailing masthead was brought into our quarters on the appointed day. When the operating table was duly set Ed Benguiat, after honing his trusted scalpel to a fine edge, administered four deft strokes of the blade, swiftly severing the period with a minimum of discomfort.
It was an historic moment. One that will be long remembered in the annals of joumalism. I hope we returned the severed period to the Times as a valuable contribution to its archives.
A confluence of two posts
I love when I discover that two places, people, or things that I am interested in separately have something in common. I’m currently making my way through Life With Letters …as they turned photogenic by the late, great Edward Rondthaler, co-founder of Photo-Lettering, Inc. I came across this passage today (on page 60):
… Occasionally we would photo-letter tightly fitted lines of caps for typographers who did not want to subject their metal type to excessive saw work or “notching.” Perhaps the most unexpected request for type came from Mr. George Macy at the Limited Editions Club. He wanted the unique 22-point cut of Caslon 471 photo-lettered in 60-point. It takes a man of his typographic sensitivity to appreciate the niceties of that 22-point cut, but we were a jump ahead of him and had the plate already made up just waiting for such a call…
And so we happen upon the confluence of two subjects I’ve devoted posts to in the past: Photo-Lettering, Inc., and Mr. Macy’s books. I would have never realized that one might have been a client of the other.
NYU Stern Orientation Program — inspiration by Erik Nitsche
(Update: photos of the printed booklet are now up.)
New York University’s Leonard N. Stern School of Business engaged with three steps ahead this summer to create a set of program booklets to be distributed to incoming students at Summer Orientation. Our work for Stern thus far (NYU Stern CACE Poster & NYU Stern IBEX Poster, for example) has leaned towards classic mid-century design meets The Naughties, when compared with designs we’ve done for NYU’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. I’ve felt that Stern evokes a more streamlined, straight-shooting feel than the more expressive and eclectic nature of Gallatin. For this project, however, I wanted to branch off in a slightly tangential direction. The design needed to evoke feelings of: orientation; summer in New York city; a first time visit to the most overwhelming of all American cities; business; and a sense of edginess and fun.
I was particularly inspired by the work of Erik Nitsche, a modern graphic designer whose understanding of form and palette helped him to create some of the most iconic designs of the 20th century. I obsessively pored over the Flickr pool devoted to Nitsche’s work, trying to discern exactly what it was that made his work resonate. In my eventual concept sketches, I was influenced by Nitsche’s use of certain typeface pairs (Akzidenz Grotesk + Bodoni, for example) and graphic motifs, but I did my best to make it my own and keep things feeling of-our-era, rather than co-opting the 1960s zeitgeist completely.
The client had requested that several initial concepts be presented. The first set of ideas that I sketched were less related to Nitsche’s work than they were to some of the 1964 World’s Fair pieces I’ve come across, as well as mid-’60s record album art. These initial concepts had a very playful feel and a color palette that evoked New York City. I also really wanted to specify French Paper’s Dur-O-Tone in Butcher Orange as the cover stock. It’s fantastic. I created two different covers, one with a line-art illustration of Stern’s headquarters, and one with a motif evocative of a New York city manhole cover, a vinyl LP, or a stylized depiction of the summer sun (à la Rocky and Bullwinkle).
My next set of designs, which would form the foundation of the final pieces, moved more in the Swiss modernist Nitsche direction. I liked the idea of a diagram depicting a literal interpretation of “orientation.” I liked the associations with the summer season and the earth’s axis being tilted at 23.44°. I also liked the concept of a Little Prince-like planet with New York City as a major topographical feature. The colors I had chosen for this group of sketches was a lot more subdued, in contrast with the orange-and-blue palette of the previous concept. The feedback I received indicated that the perfect compromise was to combine the geometry and basic form of the modernist concept with the brighter, happier colors of the World’s Fair concept.
After selecting from a handful of colorways, we arrived at the final palette and polished the design to completion.
Interior spreads include several photo-illustrations based on the photography provided by NYU along with an extension of the arrow motif from the cover design. The inside cover also includes a map of the Washington Square Park NYU Campus area with important orientation locations highlighted by color for quick reference.
Cosmographs update
After my recent post on harmonographs, I ponied up for a copy of the Photo-Lettering Alphabet Thesaurus, Volume 2. And now that I can read the book in “full resolution,” I learned a bit more about these mysterious space drawings. The following is transcribed directly from the book:
The figures on the following pages are a unique graphic arts innovation. Photo-Lettering has picked the name “COSMOGRAPHS” to describe these intriguing, orbiting motifs. They represent a significant, modern art-form, for here is scientifically-produced art that unerringly reflects the pitch and flux of this electronic era…free forms unencumbered by traditional patterns…designs with internal momentum capable of exercising a subliminal influence. These are not superficial ornaments; they possess a visual harmony with an enchantment that sets a dominant mood or tone.
Cosmographs are the product of an invention by Edward Lias, physicist in sound. They are visual records of patterns produced by interfering sound waves. Each figure represents a harmonious musical chord or triad. The adjustment of tonalities to different ratios produces the varying formations. The potential of effects is limitless. Here science and art literally join hands in the unity and harmony of basic universal motions.
This introductory showing of cosmographs will no doubt suggest a variety of interesting and practical uses. The designs are available from Photo-Lettering Inc. in SpectraKrome color prints, or black and white glossies from reproduction…as shown or flopped over… positive or negative. Size should be measured on the longest dimension. Prices are adjusted to the intended use.
And later:
Cosmographs are useful for setting moods, attracting attention, decorating backgrounds, and adding distinction to printed matter. Some specific applications include record albums, book jackets, trademarks, letterheads, package designs, wallpaper, murals, displays, TV spots, etc. Also special uses in the areas of electronics, music, art, architecture, fashion, industry, etc.
I think the persuasive 1960s copywriting is almost as good as the designs themselves!
Harmonographs: Drawings of the Future

Harmonographs: Drawings of the Future
My path to discovering the world of “harmonographs” is slightly convoluted. It all began when House Industries announced that it would be digitizing and selling selections from the Photo-Lettering, Inc. type collection. Now, besides the fact that this will allow digital designers such as myself to take advantage of the analog type of yesteryear, House plans to sell the fonts in a more affordable way—one headline at a time. Just like Photo-Lettering did back some decades ago, House will allow designers to specify headlines for typesetting and then order only the glyphs that are necessary for the job. This keeps the cost to the designer/client down, and will hopefully stimulate volume sales. It’s revolutionary. I can’t wait.
So how does this relate to harmonographs? Well, after hearing about House Industries’ plans, Grain Edit recently posted some photos of the Photo-Lettering, Inc. Alphabet Thesaurus, Volume 2. One page in the type specimen catalog includes these amazingly retro Spirograph-like images called “cosmographs.” I’d remembered seeing similar imagery gracing the cover of the House Industries “House 3009″ type catalog, in all its Space-Age glory. Also, when I recently visited House for their Tag Sale, I picked up a 12″ vinyl LP called “Fantastica: Music from Outer Space by Russ Garcia.” It too features a cosmograph-like image on the cover, again evocative of that whole 1950s/1960s film-and-television sci-fi zeitgeist.
So, Google to the rescue, and I came across Cosmographs.com; not a terribly functional or attractive site, but fascinating nonetheless. I put two and two together and saw that the site credits Edward J. Lias, the same fellow mentioned on the Cosmographs page of the Photo-Lettering catalog (“Recorded by Edward Lias”). Looks like I am on to something, I thought. I tried his email address to no avail; my message bounced. A Whois lookup of his domain name leads only to his hosting provider. Dead end—sigh. Wikipedia time! I looked up information on Spirographs, those fun pen-and-ink toys I used to play with in school, and as Wikiing often allows, I eventually found the harmonograph, another variant of a pendulum-like line graph1 . Great, of course, but I wanted so badly just to be able to make them myself! Luckily, related links at the bottom sent me to subblue, an extraordinarily amazing site where one can actually create harmonographs (as well as guillochés, fractals, and mind-blowing M.C. Escher-esque graphics). The icing on the cake is that with a simple right-click and access to a PDF printer (I recommend CutePDF writer, by the way), the files can be saved, and voila. Vector harmonographs.
- UPDATE: After acquiring my own copy of the Alphabet Thesaurus, Volume 2, I learned a bit more about “Cosmographs.” Check my newer post for more information. [↩]
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- Ed Rondthaler's Life with letters …as they turned photogenic
- House Industries: The Book
- Iron Fists: Branding the 20th-Century Totalitarian State by Steven Heller
- Meggs' History of Graphic Design
- The Alphabet Thesaurus, Vol. 2
- The Elements of Typographic Style by Robert Bringhurst
- The Graphic Artists Guild Handbook











