Lea Johanna Becker
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
Tangible Typography Lea Johanna Becker – Essay and booklet on touching type.
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Tangible Typography
297 × 420 mm
Aug 2022
academic research project
concept
research
text

I touch my screen, but nothing I see touches me.

Instagram is flooded with a rushing stream of works by artists and designers who connect typography and material: engraved lines in plaster molds, embroidered letters on a piece of fabric, textile posters, modular fonts made of metal, carpets woven with words… The works vary in aesthetics and form, in materials and messages. Some are meaningful, others decorative; some monumental, others delicate. Yet they all share one thing: they give typography a tactile dimension.

Double tap to like.

Our fingers have become dull from daily tapping on glass screens. We want to knit, bake, carve, saw, shape, knead, and sew. We want to touch things and understand the world, to intervene in it. When I look at Tangible Typography, I can feel it. Soft fabric, cold metal, sharp edges and curved curves, a broken wood splinter. I surrender to this intimate perception of my sense of touch, get very close to the works, reach out my fingers… and hit an invisible wall. This wall is the glass of my screen. Now I'm back here, with my smartphone in hand, which shows me endless images but always feels the same.