#On paper it’s not bad but… it feels like some stuff was cut truncated moved around
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misterbaritone · 1 year ago
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Aquaman 2 is like… Thor Ragnarok crossed with a Step Brothers/Rush Hour fusion spliced with the first Aquaman movie. Could’ve been worse but it could’ve been a lot better too. Solid 7/10. 6/10 on its worst day.
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jonathanbelloblog · 7 years ago
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Prototype Drive: 2019 McLaren Senna
SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT, England — Five minutes after intentionally cutting-short my first six-lap driving session on one of the world’s fastest Grand Prix tracks, I excused myself to the pitlane bathroom and unceremoniously tossed up my entire English breakfast. Mind you, I’d been feeling dicey all morning—probably a bad egg—but I’m quite sure that, under normal circumstances, I would’ve managed to soldier through without any restroom histrionics necessary.
This was no normal morning: I was test-driving a prototype of one of the most uncompromising, technologically advanced, and violently quick supercars ever built, the all-new 2019 McLaren Senna. Trust me: Even without an aperitif of food poisoning, the Senna is such a whirlwind of g forces, so Krakatoa-like in its speed and braking power, in only a lap or two it could easily reduce a NASA astronaut to a trembling, babbling impersonation of Linda Blair.
Back in February, when I first traveled to England for the unveiling of the Senna prototype, I remarked on the considerable, seemingly impossible challenge McLaren had undertaken in attempting to produce a road car worthy of its namesake, the late three-time Formula 1 world champion Ayrton Senna. “Anything less,” I wrote then, “would be a discredit to the Brazilian maestro.” That was putting it mildly. The stakes for McLaren cannot be overstated: In the history of motorsports, Ayrton Senna is one of the all-time icons, arguably the greatest race car driver who ever lived. In his home country of Brazil he’s a national hero. In Japan—which produced the Honda engines that powered his McLaren F1 cars to all three of his world titles—Senna is revered as a god. Even a “very good” effort would have been viewed as a failure. No, to be a “Senna,” McLaren’s new supercar had to be spectacular.
It is. I had an inkling of that when I first reviewed the specs and technical details of the car back at the February reveal. On paper at least, the Senna looked savage. But it was within minutes of arriving at the Silverstone Circuit for my test of the car that I truly knew I was about to experience a performance monster, a machine possibly unlike any other road-legal vehicle I’d ever driven. “Because you haven’t been around this track before,” said one of the McLaren handlers as our small group gathered in the pitlane, “first you’ll go out for some warm-up laps in a McLaren 720S.” Uh, okay … so we’re going to warm up in a 720-horsepower, 211-mph exotic car that just won a coveted spot on the 2018 Automobile All-Stars list? Just how fast is this Senna thing, anyway? For a moment I looked down at the fireproof Nomex suit McLaren had loaned me for the day and wondered, “Hmmm. Maybe I should wear two.”
Do not mistake the Senna for an upgraded 720S. While the two cars share some basic hardware, the Senna is an entirely new automobile—the new pinnacle of McLaren’s Ultimate Series range. Unlike the hybrid powerplant in the McLaren P1, the Senna uses the same basic twin-turbo 4.0-liter V-8 found in the 720S—but with such improvements as a revised air intake and inlet manifold fed by a dramatic roof-mounted scoop, revised cams, and dual high-flow fuel pumps. Power climbs to 789 hp at 7,250 rpm and 590 pound-feet of torque (a boost of 22 lb-ft) at 6,700 rpm. A slightly reworked seven-speed dual-clutch paddle shifter carries over from the 720S.
“But wait,” you say. “The gas/electric hybrid powertrain in the P1 made a combined system output of 903 horsepower. Isn’t the Senna’s 789 hp a step down?” Perhaps on a long stretch of unlimited autobahn, where the P1 could theoretically push to 217 mph versus “only” 211 mph for the Senna, you’d have a case. But you’d be missing the point: McLaren built the Senna to be the ultimate roadgoing track car. And on the racetrack, the only venue where it can truly strut its stuff, the Senna leaves the P1 sucking its super-heated exhaust fumes.
Consider a few comparisons. With its towering, constantly adjusting rear wing, movable front aero blades, and purposefully sculptured bodywork, at speed the Senna can produce nearly 1,800 pounds of combined downforce—40 percent more than the P1. Almost every piece of the Senna’s bodywork—including McLaren’s latest Monocage III tub—is made of lightweight, super-strong carbon fiber. Even the nuts and bolts have been fussed over to be 33 percent lighter. Thus, the Senna—at about 2,900 pounds curb weight—undercuts the P1 by roughly 400 pounds. And then there’s this: Going into the famous Stowe right-hander at the end of Silverstone’s long Hangar Straight, McLaren’s test drivers are braking 25 meters later in the Senna than in the P1. Next time you’re inside a football stadium, take a look at how far the 25-yard-line is from the end zone. Yeah, it’s a lot. As a track car, the Senna is simply in a different league.
After my morning breakfast cleanse I felt fine when the time arrived for my afternoon lapping session in the Senna. I also was beginning to feel comfortable with the line around the track. We were using Silverstone’s truncated, 1.9-mile “International Circuit,” but that still included the Hangar Straight, Stowe corner, and Abbey, a turn-one right-hander taken—in the Senna—in fourth gear after the briefest dab of the brakes from 150 mph. Time to give McLaren’s new wondercar a good push.
Riding shotgun was McLaren test driver and current British Touring Car racer Josh Cook (a brave soul indeed). During our morning sessions in the 720S and the Senna, Cook had kept our helmet-to-helmet intercoms busy with advice on braking markers, turn-in points, and potential pitfalls. For instance, carry too much speed into the long, long right-hand Club Corner leading onto the International Straight, and you could easily spin into the inside wall and end up on the front page of London’s Daily Mail: “Yank Stank! Pinhead Pulverizes Priceless Prototype!”
After a lap to warm up the tires, coming out of Abbey I pushed my right foot flat to the floor and instantly the air was gone from my lungs. The acceleration of the Senna is insane (for you numbers types, that means a quarter-mile time of just 9.9 seconds). As I crested the hill into the quick left-hand Farm Curve, Cook was in my earphones: “More throttle!” We were already traveling plenty fast but, still in fourth gear, I dutifully pressed deeper into the gas and, impossibly, the Senna just bit down and hammered through the bend without so much as a bobble. Such is the frightening magic of working with a high-downforce, active-aero car: more speed produces more downforce, which produces more speed and more downforce! You wonder, will the cycle ever end? (Well, yeah, eventually it will—at which point you’ll find yourself launching straight off to Scotland.) Suffice it to say, in my second six-lap stint I never got close to that almighty limit. It was hard enough to keep my head upright as it was.
To produce the cornering force of a tetherball smacked by an angry sixth-grader, the Senna relies upon a symphony of systems working in perfect synchronicity. The rear wing moves constantly; under braking, it pops up fully for maximum drag. On the Hangar Straight, it would essentially flatten-out into what an F1 car would feature as DRS (Drag Reduction System) mode—allowing the Senna to slip through the air as effortlessly as possible. In-between, the wing works in-concert with the front aero blades (which also constantly adjust in angle) to maximize cornering balance and grip. Also incorporated into the bodywork: a “Gurney flap” above each rear tire, which creates a low-pressure void in back that helps suck hot air through the huge radiators mounted in front of each rear wheel. The carbon-fiber splitter under the Senna’s nose is so huge it could almost pass for a locomotive’s cow catcher.
The aerodynamic aids enhance the prowess of the RaceActive Chassis Control II system, an evolution of the P1’s suspension upgraded with revised software. In Race mode, the suspension lowers a dramatic 1.5 inches closer to the asphalt. And then there are the incredible brakes: lightweight carbon-ceramics, each disc requiring seven months to produce and operating at reduced temperatures for greater resistance to fade. The huge binders sit inside McLaren’s first-ever center-locking wheels, the single, F1-like bolt allowing an odd number (nine) of spokes, further saving weight. Each wheel wears a high-performance Pirelli Trofeo R tire specially developed for the Senna.
The cockpit is a cinch to enter, thanks to the large opening afforded by the upward-swinging doors, and inside awaits a space of brilliant minimalism. The carbon-fiber seat shells wear just enough pads for driver comfort and support; Senna buyers (every one of the 500 cars has already been sold) can have their seats custom-fitted. The gear-selection and launch-control buttons move fore-and-aft with the driver’s seat. The Alcantara-wrapped three-spoke wheel is completely devoid of buttons, switches, or other distractions. Engine start/stop, chassis-mode selection, and even the door-opening switches are mounted in a pod above the rear-view mirror. A folding digital display screen glides up into position when you’re ready for tachometer and other info. The view to the front is sensational—almost as if you’re sitting in a single-seater.
Hammering out of a tight left-right chicane and onto the Hangar Straight, the Senna’s digital speedometer spooled up like a bathroom scale being stepped-on by an elephant. I was reaching the top of fifth gear, just more than 160 mph, before pounding onto the binders for Stowe. The stopping force was like slamming into a parked dump truck. Yet every time, Cook would say calmly into the intercom: “Next lap, try braking even later.” On my final lap, going into Stowe I braked so late all the nearby pubs closed—and still the Senna turned-in without so much as a hiccup. The car’s combination of grip and poise is nothing short of mind-blowing. (As an interesting side note: For my second lapping session I switched from a full-face helmet to an open-face one. The new lid allowed me to look down through the transparent panel in the driver’s door at the rapidly passing asphalt just inches away—dramatically increasing the sensation of speed.)
By the time my six laps were over and I turned into the pitlane, I was toast. Heart pounding, breathing in gulps, Nomex suit soaked with sweat. The McLaren Senna is an absolutely vicious performance car, with limits as high as anything I’ve ever experienced in my driving career. Yet, amazingly, it’s an absolute sweetheart to drive: smooth and accurate steering, unfailingly predictable chassis, effortless shifting and braking response. Though I did not try the car on the road, I have every expectation that it would be docile enough to be a fine daily driver.
For a car to deliver so much performance—indeed, McLaren has clearly produced one of the quickest road-legal sports cars of all time—yet be so approachable is a staggering achievement. I had my doubts when I first heard about this hugely ambitious project, especially given how much I revere Senna myself. But now, having experienced what the car can do first-hand, I can say this with confidence: Were he alive today, Ayrton Senna would be proud that this remarkable new McLaren bears his name.
2019 McLaren Senna Specifications
ON SALE Fall 2018 PRICE $958,966 (base) (all 500 sold) ENGINE 4.0.L DOHC 32-valve twin-turbo V-8/789 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 590 lb-ft @ 6,700 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 186.8 x 77.1 x 48.4 in WHEELBASE 105.0 in WEIGHT 2,900 lb (est) 0-60 MPH 2.7 sec TOP SPEED 211 mph
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jesusvasser · 7 years ago
Text
Prototype Drive: 2019 McLaren Senna
SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT, England — Five minutes after intentionally cutting-short my first six-lap driving session on one of the world’s fastest Grand Prix tracks, I excused myself to the pitlane bathroom and unceremoniously tossed up my entire English breakfast. Mind you, I’d been feeling dicey all morning—probably a bad egg—but I’m quite sure that, under normal circumstances, I would’ve managed to soldier through without any restroom histrionics necessary.
This was no normal morning: I was test-driving a prototype of one of the most uncompromising, technologically advanced, and violently quick supercars ever built, the all-new 2019 McLaren Senna. Trust me: Even without an aperitif of food poisoning, the Senna is such a whirlwind of g forces, so Krakatoa-like in its speed and braking power, in only a lap or two it could easily reduce a NASA astronaut to a trembling, babbling impersonation of Linda Blair.
Back in February, when I first traveled to England for the unveiling of the Senna prototype, I remarked on the considerable, seemingly impossible challenge McLaren had undertaken in attempting to produce a road car worthy of its namesake, the late three-time Formula 1 world champion Ayrton Senna. “Anything less,” I wrote then, “would be a discredit to the Brazilian maestro.” That was putting it mildly. The stakes for McLaren cannot be overstated: In the history of motorsports, Ayrton Senna is one of the all-time icons, arguably the greatest race car driver who ever lived. In his home country of Brazil he’s a national hero. In Japan—which produced the Honda engines that powered his McLaren F1 cars to all three of his world titles—Senna is revered as a god. Even a “very good” effort would have been viewed as a failure. No, to be a “Senna,” McLaren’s new supercar had to be spectacular.
It is. I had an inkling of that when I first reviewed the specs and technical details of the car back at the February reveal. On paper at least, the Senna looked savage. But it was within minutes of arriving at the Silverstone Circuit for my test of the car that I truly knew I was about to experience a performance monster, a machine possibly unlike any other road-legal vehicle I’d ever driven. “Because you haven’t been around this track before,” said one of the McLaren handlers as our small group gathered in the pitlane, “first you’ll go out for some warm-up laps in a McLaren 720S.” Uh, okay … so we’re going to warm up in a 720-horsepower, 211-mph exotic car that just won a coveted spot on the 2018 Automobile All-Stars list? Just how fast is this Senna thing, anyway? For a moment I looked down at the fireproof Nomex suit McLaren had loaned me for the day and wondered, “Hmmm. Maybe I should wear two.”
Do not mistake the Senna for an upgraded 720S. While the two cars share some basic hardware, the Senna is an entirely new automobile—the new pinnacle of McLaren’s Ultimate Series range. Unlike the hybrid powerplant in the McLaren P1, the Senna uses the same basic twin-turbo 4.0-liter V-8 found in the 720S—but with such improvements as a revised air intake and inlet manifold fed by a dramatic roof-mounted scoop, revised cams, and dual high-flow fuel pumps. Power climbs to 789 hp at 7,250 rpm and 590 pound-feet of torque (a boost of 22 lb-ft) at 6,700 rpm. A slightly reworked seven-speed dual-clutch paddle shifter carries over from the 720S.
“But wait,” you say. “The gas/electric hybrid powertrain in the P1 made a combined system output of 903 horsepower. Isn’t the Senna’s 789 hp a step down?” Perhaps on a long stretch of unlimited autobahn, where the P1 could theoretically push to 217 mph versus “only” 211 mph for the Senna, you’d have a case. But you’d be missing the point: McLaren built the Senna to be the ultimate roadgoing track car. And on the racetrack, the only venue where it can truly strut its stuff, the Senna leaves the P1 sucking its super-heated exhaust fumes.
Consider a few comparisons. With its towering, constantly adjusting rear wing, movable front aero blades, and purposefully sculptured bodywork, at speed the Senna can produce nearly 1,800 pounds of combined downforce—40 percent more than the P1. Almost every piece of the Senna’s bodywork—including McLaren’s latest Monocage III tub—is made of lightweight, super-strong carbon fiber. Even the nuts and bolts have been fussed over to be 33 percent lighter. Thus, the Senna—at about 2,900 pounds curb weight—undercuts the P1 by roughly 400 pounds. And then there’s this: Going into the famous Stowe right-hander at the end of Silverstone’s long Hangar Straight, McLaren’s test drivers are braking 25 meters later in the Senna than in the P1. Next time you’re inside a football stadium, take a look at how far the 25-yard-line is from the end zone. Yeah, it’s a lot. As a track car, the Senna is simply in a different league.
After my morning breakfast cleanse I felt fine when the time arrived for my afternoon lapping session in the Senna. I also was beginning to feel comfortable with the line around the track. We were using Silverstone’s truncated, 1.9-mile “International Circuit,” but that still included the Hangar Straight, Stowe corner, and Abbey, a turn-one right-hander taken—in the Senna—in fourth gear after the briefest dab of the brakes from 150 mph. Time to give McLaren’s new wondercar a good push.
Riding shotgun was McLaren test driver and current British Touring Car racer Josh Cook (a brave soul indeed). During our morning sessions in the 720S and the Senna, Cook had kept our helmet-to-helmet intercoms busy with advice on braking markers, turn-in points, and potential pitfalls. For instance, carry too much speed into the long, long right-hand Club Corner leading onto the International Straight, and you could easily spin into the inside wall and end up on the front page of London’s Daily Mail: “Yank Stank! Pinhead Pulverizes Priceless Prototype!”
After a lap to warm up the tires, coming out of Abbey I pushed my right foot flat to the floor and instantly the air was gone from my lungs. The acceleration of the Senna is insane (for you numbers types, that means a quarter-mile time of just 9.9 seconds). As I crested the hill into the quick left-hand Farm Curve, Cook was in my earphones: “More throttle!” We were already traveling plenty fast but, still in fourth gear, I dutifully pressed deeper into the gas and, impossibly, the Senna just bit down and hammered through the bend without so much as a bobble. Such is the frightening magic of working with a high-downforce, active-aero car: more speed produces more downforce, which produces more speed and more downforce! You wonder, will the cycle ever end? (Well, yeah, eventually it will—at which point you’ll find yourself launching straight off to Scotland.) Suffice it to say, in my second six-lap stint I never got close to that almighty limit. It was hard enough to keep my head upright as it was.
To produce the cornering force of a tetherball smacked by an angry sixth-grader, the Senna relies upon a symphony of systems working in perfect synchronicity. The rear wing moves constantly; under braking, it pops up fully for maximum drag. On the Hangar Straight, it would essentially flatten-out into what an F1 car would feature as DRS (Drag Reduction System) mode—allowing the Senna to slip through the air as effortlessly as possible. In-between, the wing works in-concert with the front aero blades (which also constantly adjust in angle) to maximize cornering balance and grip. Also incorporated into the bodywork: a “Gurney flap” above each rear tire, which creates a low-pressure void in back that helps suck hot air through the huge radiators mounted in front of each rear wheel. The carbon-fiber splitter under the Senna’s nose is so huge it could almost pass for a locomotive’s cow catcher.
The aerodynamic aids enhance the prowess of the RaceActive Chassis Control II system, an evolution of the P1’s suspension upgraded with revised software. In Race mode, the suspension lowers a dramatic 1.5 inches closer to the asphalt. And then there are the incredible brakes: lightweight carbon-ceramics, each disc requiring seven months to produce and operating at reduced temperatures for greater resistance to fade. The huge binders sit inside McLaren’s first-ever center-locking wheels, the single, F1-like bolt allowing an odd number (nine) of spokes, further saving weight. Each wheel wears a high-performance Pirelli Trofeo R tire specially developed for the Senna.
The cockpit is a cinch to enter, thanks to the large opening afforded by the upward-swinging doors, and inside awaits a space of brilliant minimalism. The carbon-fiber seat shells wear just enough pads for driver comfort and support; Senna buyers (every one of the 500 cars has already been sold) can have their seats custom-fitted. The gear-selection and launch-control buttons move fore-and-aft with the driver’s seat. The Alcantara-wrapped three-spoke wheel is completely devoid of buttons, switches, or other distractions. Engine start/stop, chassis-mode selection, and even the door-opening switches are mounted in a pod above the rear-view mirror. A folding digital display screen glides up into position when you’re ready for tachometer and other info. The view to the front is sensational—almost as if you’re sitting in a single-seater.
Hammering out of a tight left-right chicane and onto the Hangar Straight, the Senna’s digital speedometer spooled up like a bathroom scale being stepped-on by an elephant. I was reaching the top of fifth gear, just more than 160 mph, before pounding onto the binders for Stowe. The stopping force was like slamming into a parked dump truck. Yet every time, Cook would say calmly into the intercom: “Next lap, try braking even later.” On my final lap, going into Stowe I braked so late all the nearby pubs closed—and still the Senna turned-in without so much as a hiccup. The car’s combination of grip and poise is nothing short of mind-blowing. (As an interesting side note: For my second lapping session I switched from a full-face helmet to an open-face one. The new lid allowed me to look down through the transparent panel in the driver’s door at the rapidly passing asphalt just inches away—dramatically increasing the sensation of speed.)
By the time my six laps were over and I turned into the pitlane, I was toast. Heart pounding, breathing in gulps, Nomex suit soaked with sweat. The McLaren Senna is an absolutely vicious performance car, with limits as high as anything I’ve ever experienced in my driving career. Yet, amazingly, it’s an absolute sweetheart to drive: smooth and accurate steering, unfailingly predictable chassis, effortless shifting and braking response. Though I did not try the car on the road, I have every expectation that it would be docile enough to be a fine daily driver.
For a car to deliver so much performance—indeed, McLaren has clearly produced one of the quickest road-legal sports cars of all time—yet be so approachable is a staggering achievement. I had my doubts when I first heard about this hugely ambitious project, especially given how much I revere Senna myself. But now, having experienced what the car can do first-hand, I can say this with confidence: Were he alive today, Ayrton Senna would be proud that this remarkable new McLaren bears his name.
2019 McLaren Senna Specifications
ON SALE Fall 2018 PRICE $958,966 (base) (all 500 sold) ENGINE 4.0.L DOHC 32-valve twin-turbo V-8/789 hp @ 7,250 rpm, 590 lb-ft @ 6,700 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed dual-clutch automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 2-passenger, mid-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 186.8 x 77.1 x 48.4 in WHEELBASE 105.0 in WEIGHT 2,900 lb (est) 0-60 MPH 2.7 sec TOP SPEED 211 mph
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dawnajaynes32 · 7 years ago
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Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction
[Call for Entries: The International Design Awards]
Raymond Larabie, known for creating ubiquitous futuristic and sci-fi fonts, has been involved with type since he “was about five years old” and was using type at that early age as well. His experience with typography, especially when it came to the hands-on-use of Letraset, helped him understand how typefaces looked, and how typography worked. By the mid-1980s he edited fonts and made his own fonts on his first computer, doing everything on a TRS-80 in bitmap. He eventually graduated to the Commodore Amiga.
Neuropol was created in 1997 and was used for the logo for the Torino Olympics in 2006. It’s been updated and expanded a lot over the years and also comes in a more buttoned up X style. The truncated arms were inspired by a malfunctioning vectorbeam screen on an old Tempest arcade machine.
Larabie earned a Classical Animation Diploma at Sheridan College in Oakville, and went on to work as an art director in the video game business working on games for the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and Super NES (SNES), as well as the Playstation and Playstation 2. During that time, he maintained his love for type and type design, and made free fonts, releasing them on the Ray Larabie Freeware Typeface of the Week website. This soon became Larabie Fonts. In 2001, he started a commercial font venture, and quit his job two years later to work on fonts full-time.
Influenced by Letraset at age five, Larabie says his own Letraset sheets got “used up decades ago,” in the mid-1980s. “I wonder if younger readers realize that fonts were once something that you’d buy and they would get used up. These are replacement copies of catalogs because I wore the originals to shreds. I don’t know why I was so obsessed with this stuff as a kid.” Photo by Raymond Larabie
Inspired by the Pinto Flare typeface, Larabie created his own groovy version called Pricedown. You might also recognize it from Grand Theft Auto‘s wordmark. “I worked for Rockstar at the time but they weren’t aware that they were using a font which was created by one of their employees before the company existed.”
Larabie moved to Japan in 2008, where he operates Typodermic Fonts. Larabie provided a behind the scenes look at his design process for HOW readers, and answered questions about his work and his influences.
How Raymond Works
Step 1
“When starting a new typeface, my first step is to draw a few heavy sample characters to establish dimensions and sidebearings.”
Step 2
“Once I’ve got a few sample characters for the heaviest weight, I add a weight axis and design a light version of those characters. This way I can test interpolation, alter the x-height, sidebearings and width, then note the scale percentages—afterwards, I delete the light test characters. I’m using a uniform line width since this will be an interpolation target which will be thrown away later. I usually use an interpolation of between 10 to 20% of the heaviest weight as my extra-light so it retains some of flavor of the heavy weight.”
Step 3
“One by one, I add completed heavy characters, making sure each one harmonizes with the existing characters. I don’t draw them in alphabetical order but I try not to leave the hard letters like a and e for last. The interplay between f,r,t,z is particularly difficult so they should be drawn all at the same time to make sure they work together. There’s no separate spacing phase—I’m adjusting and thoroughly testing the spacing for each character as I go.”
Step 4
“Next I create composite accented characters and finish the rest of the character set. I use a set of reduced height accents for the capital letters and more generous ones for the lowercase.”
Step 5
“After lots of testing and minor adjustments, I’ll create kerning classes and create all the kerning pairs. It’s important to spend a lot of time setting up the kerning classes. Not only does it make the kerning process much faster but it reduces the possibility of error and omission.”
Step 6
“Now it’s time to create the light interpolation weight. I’ll use the notes I made earlier to make everything narrower, decrease the x-height and pad the sidebearings. I’ll also create a quick, disposable outline version to use as a guide in the background.”
Step 7
“Next I’ll complete all the light characters. I need to adjust the sidebearings on thin characters like lowercase L, I, 1 etc. The accents no longer line up so they all need adjustment. The kerning will need to be done all over again. Some pairs won’t need adjusting but they’ll all need to be checked.”
Step 8
“Next, I experiment with the interpolation and make adjustments to refine the middle weights—it’s a bit like pulling strings. You can see how I need to cut away a piece of the Q so the tail goes through only on the lighter weights. This stage can involve a lot of manual cleanup and vector surgery. Now I decide which weights I’m going to export. Then I fill in the style names, do some autohinting, more testing, more adjustments and I’m done.”
Q&A with Raymond
Q. What inspired you to create your own type design foundry?
I like to call it a font company. Foundry makes it sound like I work with molten metal.
What’s behind the name? What does Typodermic mean, and why did you go with that name?
During the indie font gold rush near the turn of the millennium, font puns were in short supply so I jumped at that one as soon as I thought of it. I used it as a font name first and later a company name. “For font junkies” is my slogan but I thought of that much later.
What software do you use for finalizing, editing, and producing the font files, and why do you use it?
I use FontLab Studio because it’s been the dominant type design tool in Windows for almost two decades. On a Mac there are several other viable options but in Windows, if you want to create interpolated typefaces, it’s the only way to go.
What prior font software did you use, before the tools you currently use?
I used Fontographer but then stopped using it because it hadn’t been updated for close to a decade. I miss the vector drawing in that one but without interpolation, it’s a no-go.
When you started out as a type designer, who or what motivated you to get into type design, and why?
It was the emergence of type design tools. I was making fonts as soon as I got my first computer, a TRS-80 in the early 80s. But there was only so much you could do with those old bitmap editors. The urge was still there but dormant until I got my hands on Fontographer in 1996.
Larabie calls Conthrax “a techno typeface that’s designed to hide in the background” and he strived to make it look technological without being loud and flashy.
The average person who looks at your type catalog might see a strong science fiction influence. How has sci-fi shaped your typographic tastes, and the type designs you make?
When I started in the late 1990s that category was underserved. You’d see that style in logo designs but not much as typefaces. I think now, techno is considered a legitimate category but not long ago, that style of type was passed off as Microgramma or Bank Gothic clones. I do love sci-fi and video games and that’s definitely an influence. The choice of going square is often an attempt to make type that harmonizes with our environment. We live in a high-tech, rectilinear world. When I started seeing my techno fonts used on consumer electronics, it guided me more towards those sorts of projects.
Typography has a prominent place in many science fiction comic books, films, and cartoons. What movies or comic books get the typography right, in your opinion, and why?
Sci-fi type like in Robocop (1988), Star Trek the Next Generation (STNG), or Demolition Man were amped up versions of popular type styles in the times they were made. The STNG typeface feels like a late 1980s software company logo—perfect for the times. Sci-fi type often fails when it regurgitates old sci-fi ideas. We’ve seen decades of the Blade Runner line gap trick. It was a stark vision of the future in 1982 but maybe we should be extrapolating the visuals of today to develop new visions of the future.
Something that constantly annoys me is the use of Bank Gothic to imply “futuristic.” Bank Gothic was designed in 1930 and was based on a popular sign painting style from around 1900. It was the kind of thing you’d see on rail cars, gravestones, stock certificates etc. When I see it, it looks very old-fashioned to me so it’s a bit like seeing a Model-T Ford in a sci-fi future. Famous movie examples: Moon, Terra Nova, Edge of Tomorrow, Battlestar Galactica, Hunger Games, Falling Skies, Jumper and several Stargates. I think Bank Gothic is often chosen because it’s a square font that a lot of people already have on their computer. It’s not a bad font by any means but it’s very American, circa 1900 to me.
youtube
  When it comes to your process, do you begin working directly on paper during the initial design phases, or do you go right to the computer, and what benefit does that method of working provide?
I usually don’t use paper at all. I jot down notes as I’m working such as sidebearing numbers and accent offsets. I feel like the design of each glyph should be as open as possible so they can be formed by their neighbors. If I decide what glyphs are going to look like ahead of time, I can paint myself into a corner. A far more useful visual aid is to keep a reference photo on my desktop wallpaper or pinned to my cork board—usually not of anything typographical but more of a thematic image. For one job, I needed to create a tough, military looking typeface so I pinned a picture of a Humvee to my board. To me, that’s more useful than sketching out the alphabet. Even if I don’t use visual reference, there’s some kind of doctrine I can use to help me make decisions. Otherwise, I tend to smooth the edges down until the typeface has no character.
You offer a lot of free fonts, as well as fonts that cost money. Why so many fonts for free?
It’s promotional. Those free font sites get so much traffic. I’ve had over 60 million downloads from DaFont alone. The free fonts can lead to sales of web, app and eBook licenses or other weights like heavy or ultra-light.
What are your best-selling paid fonts?
Korataki is a techno font commissioned for the Mass Effect game series that’s always done really well. Meloriac is mixed case, extremely bold geometric sans which has been a steady seller. Conthrax is a more recent success. It’s a squarish, soft, ultramodern deliberately sedate.
What are your most frequently downloaded free fonts?
Coolvetica. It’s downloaded almost twice as much as the next one down the list. Then there’s Steelfish. That was a bit of a dud until I spruced it up a few years ago. I’ve been constantly going over the old ones and freshening them up or rebuilding from scratch. Then Budmo, Neuropol and Pricedown.
The Budmo typeface, influenced by marquee signs.
What type designers, foundries, or visual culture do you look at for inspiration these days, and why do you look at that work?
I spend a lot of time on Pinterest. I try to avoid looking at design blogs, or anything tagged as typography. I feel like it’s a bit like visual dieting. It’s not just what I look at, it’s what I don’t look at. And more than ever, as a species, we’re all feeding from the same visual trough. An example of a recent tangent was diving deep into the world of reel-to-reel tape decks and obsolete audio cassette formats, strange auto-reverse mechanisms. If you don’t swerve, you’ll end up making the same typeface someone else already made.
In addition to offering your fonts through your own site, they can be found at fonts.com as well as Fontspring and other sites. What advice would you have for the budding type designer, who wants to get their fonts picked up by those distributors?
When you’re developing your typeface, you should try to imagine the kind of customer that’s going to purchase it. Give it some kind of reason to exist. It’s not enough to make an attractive or interesting typeface. It’s fine if you want to get experimental but those sites aren’t the place for that sort of thing. They’re like department stores rather than galleries. For example, if you’re making a font that looks like neon lights, you can look at what’s available and think about the kind of customer who might need one. What kind of projects would they use it for? Is there something missing in the current selection of neon light fonts?
Korataki was commissioned by Bioware for the Mass Effect game series.
Some of your influences, such as the TRS-80 and 1980s pop culture, are also found in Ernest Cline’s novel Ready Player One, which Steven Spielberg has made into a feature film. You’ve got such a deep catalog of future-forward and sci-fi fonts. Leading up to Ready Player One’s release, if we see a 1980s renaissance—and especially one with sci-fi and gaming influences from that era—what new creations can we expect to see from Typodermic Fonts?
I think the console games of the 1980s and 1990s have been well fetishized—the aesthetic is well known. Younger generations have developed a visual style based on that type of look but it’s based on a relatively narrow view on games in the 1980s. There’s an aspect of gaming that’s been largely ignored and is in danger of being lost forever: microcomputers. While some people were playing Atari and Nintendo in the living room, the rest of us were at desks, patiently waiting for games to load from cassettes. Those types of games haven’t been popular with collectors and they’re often ignored. Cassettes and floppy disks fail—manuals and packaging get thrown in the trash. Some of the Japanese microcomputers like MSX, NEC PC Series, X-1, FM-7 had specific technical limitations that created their own unique visual style. A lot of the console game franchises we know and love started off on these systems before people played them on their living room game consoles. Many microcomputer games that were released in this era will never be recovered. A few years ago I made Rukyltronic which was a tribute to 1980s UK microcomputers like Beeb and the Speccy. That’s the kind of thing I’ve got my eye out for and it’ll inevitably make its way into my upcoming typeface releases.
Where do you see type design heading in the future?
Typography has a fashion cycle so you’ll see the same kinds of typefaces come and go. But when they cycle back each time, new ideas will be applied and they’ll required upgrading as user expectations keep getting higher. Things like optical scaling which will compensate for the environment. What makes a typeface perform better in small print on a smartwatch is different from what works best on a billboard and it’s not just the weight. In the 1990s, a basic character set with a few accents and stock mathematical symbols was the norm. Typefaces rarely came with more than regular, bold and italics. Now we expect a weight range, more language coverage, cohesive symbols and OpenType features galore. Also, new font technology will allow us to finally produce convincing handwriting. I think some of the innovations required to make Arabic writing work properly will provide us with some interesting tools. Once type designers have access to these tools, who knows what we’ll come up with?
Edited from a series of online and email interviews. Captions for Neuropol, as well as Toxigenesis type design process provided by Raymond Larabie. Check out Typodermic Fonts online and follow Larabie on Twitter and Instagram.
  The post Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction appeared first on HOW Design.
Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction syndicated post
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dawnajaynes32 · 7 years ago
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Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction
[Call for Entries: The International Design Awards]
Raymond Larabie, known for creating ubiquitous futuristic and sci-fi fonts, has been involved with type since he “was about five years old” and was using type at that early age as well. His experience with typography, especially when it came to the hands-on-use of Letraset, helped him understand how typefaces looked, and how typography worked. By the mid-1980s he edited fonts and made his own fonts on his first computer, doing everything on a TRS-80 in bitmap. He eventually graduated to the Commodore Amiga.
Neuropol was created in 1997 and was used for the logo for the Torino Olympics in 2006. It’s been updated and expanded a lot over the years and also comes in a more buttoned up X style. The truncated arms were inspired by a malfunctioning vectorbeam screen on an old Tempest arcade machine.
Larabie earned a Classical Animation Diploma at Sheridan College in Oakville, and went on to work as an art director in the video game business working on games for the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and Super NES (SNES), as well as the Playstation and Playstation 2. During that time, he maintained his love for type and type design, and made free fonts, releasing them on the Ray Larabie Freeware Typeface of the Week website. This soon became Larabie Fonts. In 2001, he started a commercial font venture, and quit his job two years later to work on fonts full-time.
Influenced by Letraset at age five, Larabie says his own Letraset sheets got “used up decades ago,” in the mid-1980s. “I wonder if younger readers realize that fonts were once something that you’d buy and they would get used up. These are replacement copies of catalogs because I wore the originals to shreds. I don’t know why I was so obsessed with this stuff as a kid.” Photo by Raymond Larabie
Inspired by the Pinto Flare typeface, Larabie created his own groovy version called Pricedown. You might also recognize it from Grand Theft Auto‘s wordmark. “I worked for Rockstar at the time but they weren’t aware that they were using a font which was created by one of their employees before the company existed.”
Larabie moved to Japan in 2008, where he operates Typodermic Fonts. Larabie provided a behind the scenes look at his design process for HOW readers, and answered questions about his work and his influences.
How Raymond Works
Step 1
“When starting a new typeface, my first step is to draw a few heavy sample characters to establish dimensions and sidebearings.”
Step 2
“Once I’ve got a few sample characters for the heaviest weight, I add a weight axis and design a light version of those characters. This way I can test interpolation, alter the x-height, sidebearings and width, then note the scale percentages—afterwards, I delete the light test characters. I’m using a uniform line width since this will be an interpolation target which will be thrown away later. I usually use an interpolation of between 10 to 20% of the heaviest weight as my extra-light so it retains some of flavor of the heavy weight.”
Step 3
“One by one, I add completed heavy characters, making sure each one harmonizes with the existing characters. I don’t draw them in alphabetical order but I try not to leave the hard letters like a and e for last. The interplay between f,r,t,z is particularly difficult so they should be drawn all at the same time to make sure they work together. There’s no separate spacing phase—I’m adjusting and thoroughly testing the spacing for each character as I go.”
Step 4
“Next I create composite accented characters and finish the rest of the character set. I use a set of reduced height accents for the capital letters and more generous ones for the lowercase.”
Step 5
“After lots of testing and minor adjustments, I’ll create kerning classes and create all the kerning pairs. It’s important to spend a lot of time setting up the kerning classes. Not only does it make the kerning process much faster but it reduces the possibility of error and omission.”
Step 6
“Now it’s time to create the light interpolation weight. I’ll use the notes I made earlier to make everything narrower, decrease the x-height and pad the sidebearings. I’ll also create a quick, disposable outline version to use as a guide in the background.”
Step 7
“Next I’ll complete all the light characters. I need to adjust the sidebearings on thin characters like lowercase L, I, 1 etc. The accents no longer line up so they all need adjustment. The kerning will need to be done all over again. Some pairs won’t need adjusting but they’ll all need to be checked.”
Step 8
“Next, I experiment with the interpolation and make adjustments to refine the middle weights—it’s a bit like pulling strings. You can see how I need to cut away a piece of the Q so the tail goes through only on the lighter weights. This stage can involve a lot of manual cleanup and vector surgery. Now I decide which weights I’m going to export. Then I fill in the style names, do some autohinting, more testing, more adjustments and I’m done.”
Q&A with Raymond
Q. What inspired you to create your own type design foundry?
I like to call it a font company. Foundry makes it sound like I work with molten metal.
What’s behind the name? What does Typodermic mean, and why did you go with that name?
During the indie font gold rush near the turn of the millennium, font puns were in short supply so I jumped at that one as soon as I thought of it. I used it as a font name first and later a company name. “For font junkies” is my slogan but I thought of that much later.
What software do you use for finalizing, editing, and producing the font files, and why do you use it?
I use FontLab Studio because it’s been the dominant type design tool in Windows for almost two decades. On a Mac there are several other viable options but in Windows, if you want to create interpolated typefaces, it’s the only way to go.
What prior font software did you use, before the tools you currently use?
I used Fontographer but then stopped using it because it hadn’t been updated for close to a decade. I miss the vector drawing in that one but without interpolation, it’s a no-go.
When you started out as a type designer, who or what motivated you to get into type design, and why?
It was the emergence of type design tools. I was making fonts as soon as I got my first computer, a TRS-80 in the early 80s. But there was only so much you could do with those old bitmap editors. The urge was still there but dormant until I got my hands on Fontographer in 1996.
Larabie calls Conthrax “a techno typeface that’s designed to hide in the background” and he strived to make it look technological without being loud and flashy.
The average person who looks at your type catalog might see a strong science fiction influence. How has sci-fi shaped your typographic tastes, and the type designs you make?
When I started in the late 1990s that category was underserved. You’d see that style in logo designs but not much as typefaces. I think now, techno is considered a legitimate category but not long ago, that style of type was passed off as Microgramma or Bank Gothic clones. I do love sci-fi and video games and that’s definitely an influence. The choice of going square is often an attempt to make type that harmonizes with our environment. We live in a high-tech, rectilinear world. When I started seeing my techno fonts used on consumer electronics, it guided me more towards those sorts of projects.
Typography has a prominent place in many science fiction comic books, films, and cartoons. What movies or comic books get the typography right, in your opinion, and why?
Sci-fi type like in Robocop (1988), Star Trek the Next Generation (STNG), or Demolition Man were amped up versions of popular type styles in the times they were made. The STNG typeface feels like a late 1980s software company logo—perfect for the times. Sci-fi type often fails when it regurgitates old sci-fi ideas. We’ve seen decades of the Blade Runner line gap trick. It was a stark vision of the future in 1982 but maybe we should be extrapolating the visuals of today to develop new visions of the future.
Something that constantly annoys me is the use of Bank Gothic to imply “futuristic.” Bank Gothic was designed in 1930 and was based on a popular sign painting style from around 1900. It was the kind of thing you’d see on rail cars, gravestones, stock certificates etc. When I see it, it looks very old-fashioned to me so it’s a bit like seeing a Model-T Ford in a sci-fi future. Famous movie examples: Moon, Terra Nova, Edge of Tomorrow, Battlestar Galactica, Hunger Games, Falling Skies, Jumper and several Stargates. I think Bank Gothic is often chosen because it’s a square font that a lot of people already have on their computer. It’s not a bad font by any means but it’s very American, circa 1900 to me.
youtube
  When it comes to your process, do you begin working directly on paper during the initial design phases, or do you go right to the computer, and what benefit does that method of working provide?
I usually don’t use paper at all. I jot down notes as I’m working such as sidebearing numbers and accent offsets. I feel like the design of each glyph should be as open as possible so they can be formed by their neighbors. If I decide what glyphs are going to look like ahead of time, I can paint myself into a corner. A far more useful visual aid is to keep a reference photo on my desktop wallpaper or pinned to my cork board—usually not of anything typographical but more of a thematic image. For one job, I needed to create a tough, military looking typeface so I pinned a picture of a Humvee to my board. To me, that’s more useful than sketching out the alphabet. Even if I don’t use visual reference, there’s some kind of doctrine I can use to help me make decisions. Otherwise, I tend to smooth the edges down until the typeface has no character.
You offer a lot of free fonts, as well as fonts that cost money. Why so many fonts for free?
It’s promotional. Those free font sites get so much traffic. I’ve had over 60 million downloads from DaFont alone. The free fonts can lead to sales of web, app and eBook licenses or other weights like heavy or ultra-light.
What are your best-selling paid fonts?
Korataki is a techno font commissioned for the Mass Effect game series that’s always done really well. Meloriac is mixed case, extremely bold geometric sans which has been a steady seller. Conthrax is a more recent success. It’s a squarish, soft, ultramodern deliberately sedate.
What are your most frequently downloaded free fonts?
Coolvetica. It’s downloaded almost twice as much as the next one down the list. Then there’s Steelfish. That was a bit of a dud until I spruced it up a few years ago. I’ve been constantly going over the old ones and freshening them up or rebuilding from scratch. Then Budmo, Neuropol and Pricedown.
The Budmo typeface, influenced by marquee signs.
What type designers, foundries, or visual culture do you look at for inspiration these days, and why do you look at that work?
I spend a lot of time on Pinterest. I try to avoid looking at design blogs, or anything tagged as typography. I feel like it’s a bit like visual dieting. It’s not just what I look at, it’s what I don’t look at. And more than ever, as a species, we’re all feeding from the same visual trough. An example of a recent tangent was diving deep into the world of reel-to-reel tape decks and obsolete audio cassette formats, strange auto-reverse mechanisms. If you don’t swerve, you’ll end up making the same typeface someone else already made.
In addition to offering your fonts through your own site, they can be found at fonts.com as well as Fontspring and other sites. What advice would you have for the budding type designer, who wants to get their fonts picked up by those distributors?
When you’re developing your typeface, you should try to imagine the kind of customer that’s going to purchase it. Give it some kind of reason to exist. It’s not enough to make an attractive or interesting typeface. It’s fine if you want to get experimental but those sites aren’t the place for that sort of thing. They’re like department stores rather than galleries. For example, if you’re making a font that looks like neon lights, you can look at what’s available and think about the kind of customer who might need one. What kind of projects would they use it for? Is there something missing in the current selection of neon light fonts?
Korataki was commissioned by Bioware for the Mass Effect game series.
Some of your influences, such as the TRS-80 and 1980s pop culture, are also found in Ernest Cline’s novel Ready Player One, which Steven Spielberg has made into a feature film. You’ve got such a deep catalog of future-forward and sci-fi fonts. Leading up to Ready Player One’s release, if we see a 1980s renaissance—and especially one with sci-fi and gaming influences from that era—what new creations can we expect to see from Typodermic Fonts?
I think the console games of the 1980s and 1990s have been well fetishized—the aesthetic is well known. Younger generations have developed a visual style based on that type of look but it’s based on a relatively narrow view on games in the 1980s. There’s an aspect of gaming that’s been largely ignored and is in danger of being lost forever: microcomputers. While some people were playing Atari and Nintendo in the living room, the rest of us were at desks, patiently waiting for games to load from cassettes. Those types of games haven’t been popular with collectors and they’re often ignored. Cassettes and floppy disks fail—manuals and packaging get thrown in the trash. Some of the Japanese microcomputers like MSX, NEC PC Series, X-1, FM-7 had specific technical limitations that created their own unique visual style. A lot of the console game franchises we know and love started off on these systems before people played them on their living room game consoles. Many microcomputer games that were released in this era will never be recovered. A few years ago I made Rukyltronic which was a tribute to 1980s UK microcomputers like Beeb and the Speccy. That’s the kind of thing I’ve got my eye out for and it’ll inevitably make its way into my upcoming typeface releases.
Where do you see type design heading in the future?
Typography has a fashion cycle so you’ll see the same kinds of typefaces come and go. But when they cycle back each time, new ideas will be applied and they’ll required upgrading as user expectations keep getting higher. Things like optical scaling which will compensate for the environment. What makes a typeface perform better in small print on a smartwatch is different from what works best on a billboard and it’s not just the weight. In the 1990s, a basic character set with a few accents and stock mathematical symbols was the norm. Typefaces rarely came with more than regular, bold and italics. Now we expect a weight range, more language coverage, cohesive symbols and OpenType features galore. Also, new font technology will allow us to finally produce convincing handwriting. I think some of the innovations required to make Arabic writing work properly will provide us with some interesting tools. Once type designers have access to these tools, who knows what we’ll come up with?
Edited from a series of online and email interviews. Captions for Neuropol, as well as Toxigenesis type design process provided by Raymond Larabie. Check out Typodermic Fonts online and follow Larabie on Twitter and Instagram.
  The post Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction appeared first on HOW Design.
Typodermic’s Raymond Larabie Talks Type, Technology & Science Fiction syndicated post
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