Those of us old enough to have used a computer in the mid 1980s, can recall the experience of reading a pixelated version of Chicago on early Macintosh screens. Designed in 1984 by Susan Kare for Apple’s first operating system, Chicago is fondly remembered as the typeface associated with many people’s first experience with personal computers, and would later be employed again in 2001 as the typeface used for the operating system of the first iPod. Chicago was defined by its unique letter structure that was a response to its specific on-screen context. Launched in 1984, Chicago was originally only created as a 12pt bitmap version utilising a restrictive pixel grid. It was designed to remain legible when rendered in grey on monotone monitors by the removal of every other pixel. Chicago was later adapted as a vector-based TrueType version by Kris Holmes in 1991, and these original technical requirements resulted in the robust geometric forms that became so broadly (albeit unintentionally) read over the next couple of decades.
While clearly advancing on ground broken by designers throughout the 20th century, the design of Chicago was also defined by the requirement of a pixel grid that shared a methodology with landmarks such as the universal styles made famous by the Staatliches Bauhaus school in the 1930s, Wim Crouwel’s grid-based type styles of the 1960s and ’70s and Neville Brody’s often hand drawn geometric type styles of the mid 1980s. The pixel version of Chicago is defined by a stroke contrast that imitates traditional letterforms, assumingly in an effort to make on-screen text more legible. This contrast is employed at a two to one ratio: vertical stems being two units thick and horizontal strokes being one unit thick. As the text was only intended to be read at small sizes, curved shoulders and bowls are simply imitated by the omission of pixels on otherwise square corners, while counters are completely square and diagonal lines are jagged.
The Chicago forms that began as pixels were later evolved for the vector-based TrueType version released in 1991. The new version was almost strictly limited to a combination of straight lines and circular connections The exception being the k, K, M, N, z, Z, 2, 3, 4 and 7 that feature diagonal strokes, whereas the A, v, V, w, W, x, X, y and Y do not. Seemingly employed on the same metric grid as the original pixel version, this not-quite-strict approach led to equally appealing and awkward combinations of form that made the TrueType version of Chicago so unique and recognisable. Much like the pixel version, the vector version of Chicago is defined by the contrasting relationship between its vertical and horizontal features. In this case the circular bowls and shoulders connect the contrasting strokes by simply transitioning the geometry from a thin line to a thicker one. This simple feature helps create a raw geometric tone that defines the overall style. The geometry of the curves remains consistent even when a terminal is tapered for characters such as the c, e, g and s, and when combined with the robust geometry that dominates Chicago’s construction, this approach creates an overall concrete feel that is distinct and powerful.
Chicago was part of a digital design revolution that gave birth to a vibrant, frantic era of groundbreaking creativity in the late 1980s. It was an exciting time to be a designer. There was change in the air and luminaries such as Neville Brody, Gert Dumbar, Emigre, April Greiman and Wolfgang Weingart emerged as champions of progress. The frank and awkward characteristics represented by Chicago became ever present in new typefaces and a fresh approach to communication design that questioned the status quo. In the years following its launch Chicago took on a kind of underground credibility. The typeface was readily available as a free system font and was embraced by untrained DIY creators as well as forward thinking designers, such as Greiman and Ed Fella. There was a punkness associated with Chicago and its use outside of Apple’s corporate structure, and both amateurs and professionals utilised the typeface to lend an authentic and unorthodox tone to works for music and cultural media. The social use of Chicago caused it to be integrated into visual culture and take on new meanings beyond its original intentions. In the 21st century our impression of Chicago has as much to do with its disruptive presence in cultural media as it does its early days in corporate identity.
Throughout history new letterforms have often come about as a response to new technologies and new typographic conditions. These cultural shifts often take decades to affect our everyday lives, but in Chicago’s case its integration into popular culture was as expedited as the technology it was coupled with. These moments of stylistic evolution are important markers in typographic history and, although they are sometimes barely perceptible in real time, the major players in these cultural shifts are often posthumously celebrated as giants. I’m talking about Johannes Gutenberg employing the scribe Peter Schöffer to help design and cut letterpunches for the very first typeface in c.1455; Claude Garamond’s first true printing typeface in c.1530; William Caslon producing the first sans serif typeface in c.1816; Howard Kettler designing Courier for IBM typewriters in 1955; and Max Miedinger creating Neue Haas Grotesk (Helvetica) in 1957, just to name a few.
Recently it occured to me that the creation of Chicago is perhaps one of these landmark moments, where a stylistic shift ripples out from a single drop in the typographic pond. I realised that having happened in my lifetime, the cultural proliferation of Chicago has affected me personally. It has had a deep impact on my design process and how I view and approach typography. I am a byproduct of those tumultuous times in the 1980s and my attitude towards communications is made up of both traditional and progressive values as a result. I have always loved Chicago. Nervous to use it at first, I soon discovered the allure of the raw energy infused in its unique geometry, but was always troubled by its obvious shortcomings that were often caused by that very same raw energy: the kerning was terrible, some of the characters were a bit dodgy, there was no optical correction, and there was no alternate weights, or even an italic. This lack of formality is appealing, but ultimately limiting, and caused me to want to design my own alternative. A friend and fellow type designer Dave Foster called me out on it one day while we were working on a project using Chicago, and so we hatched a plan to create Kapitol.
Designing Kapitol was a process of capturing the tone and energy of Chicago, while also completely re-inventing it. Kapitol is not intended as a Chicago revival, instead Kapitol was drawn from memory, using the impression of Chicago to help inform decisions. I wanted to create a sensitive and useful type family that captures Chicago’s origins, but also create a new kind of formality based on that familiar robustness and sense of geometry. As a result Kapitol has been created with a concrete nature at its heart. During the design process I also looked at concrete architecture (both conceptual and literal) for the inspiration required to use geometry as the necessary central focus of Kapitol’s visual language.
The design of Kapitol began with the semibold weight, the semibold being Kapitol’s visual equivalent to the only Chicago weight. Foster and I worked on this weight and its corresponding italic until we felt that we had captured the appropriate tone, while creating our own original point of view. My process was to draw the feeling and geometry of the type and oversee the entire family structure, while Foster’s task was to add the technical typographic formality and function required to make a sensitive and useful type family. The first Kapitol drawings began in pure gridded geometry and were then evolved to utilise more organic forms. Unlike Chicago, where necessary Kapitol discards the grid and utilises letterforms that have strong connections to the history of grotesque faces, all the while maintaining a unique sense of contrast and purely vertical stresses.
Once we felt that we had the semibold working, we moved on to the development of the entire family. This process of interpreting our intentions into multiple weights is where Kapitol really takes on its own character. As the weights get lighter or bolder their structural requirements change, but the overall concrete tone is maintained. Ultimately, the weights at the lighter and bolder ends of the spectrum look less and less like their visual origins, but always feel like they are part of the Kapitol family. The thin and black weights in particular stretch the inherent contrast to the absolute limits. Inevitably most of Chicago’s idiosyncrasies have been omitted in the development of Kapitol. Kapitol, after all, is not intended as a revival. That said, the essence of Chicago’s powerful geometry is still present here. While Kapitol employs a more traditional use of diagonal strokes, the unique geometric terminals featured in characters like the c, e, g and s have been maintained. The classical employment of contrast creates added legibility, and is a distinct, but familiar, counterpoint to the concrete geometry that has perhaps been made even more recognisable through Kapitol’s consistent integration of effortless proportion and spacing.
While overseeing Kapitol’s development I always had one eye on its ultimate usage. I envisioned Kapitol as a potential replacement for modernist grotesque typefaces, both in display and text use, and as a result, I wanted to make a new text typeface that could stand up to the demanding combination of contemporary print and digital use, while also remaining unique and legible. There is a lot to learn from the 20th century modernist approach to both typeface design and typeface use. 20th century designers often utilised their typefaces in brutal treatments that tested the robustness of the letterforms. Ultimately it was the universal grotesque styles that proved to be the most resilient and ever present. These type styles have been chopped, squashed, repeated and employed in countless iterations and remain at the centre of design culture. The structural approach to Kapitol owes a lot to those modernist grotesque typefaces and their pioneering usages, however while retaining some grotesque robustness, Kapitol’s proportions are something different. The x-height is large and the spaces are quite full, creating a solid feel in type settings. The slightly condensed characters allow for economical setting, while the inherent contrast has more in keeping with serifs than geometric sans serif styles. Kapitol’s numerals are also especially graphic and feature a stylistic uniformity that make them feel like a feature when used at small or large sizes.
The fourteen style Kapitol family consists of a broad range of weights that vary progressively in their aesthetic, due to the strong contrast in combination with its vertical stress. When employed at text sizes Kapitol feels utilitarian and sets in efficient, structural galleys. The letter contrast creates an underlying vertical emphasis, while reading remains effortless at any size and weight. Used at larger sizes Kapitol becomes infinitely more dynamic—the finish of letterforms is clean and strong, almost brutalist, making for combinations of crisp geometry and solid forms. The more pronounced concrete geometry leads to a powerful sense of form and space and creates rewarding relationships between characters and nuance. Kapitol’s graphic feel and concrete heart create a unique typographic tone that honours its very recent heritage while driving forward with a contemporary graphic confidence that is a fitting tribute to its pioneering origins.