Photomontage, photography as typography, identity through light
Photographer and designer; Swiss Tourist Office, Knoll (1946–66), professor at Yale (1951–76) Engelberg (CH) → Geneva → Paris → New York
Palette of the œuvre
Biography
He was born on 25 April 1907 in Engelberg, in the Swiss Alps — a place he would
later advertise. He studies painting at the École des Beaux-Arts in Geneva (1925–27),
then at the Académie Moderne in Paris, a school run by painters Fernand Léger and Amédée
Ozenfant.
Paris, 1929–1932: works with A. M. Cassandre on posters and with Le Corbusier on
architecture and exhibition installations. The combination is unusual and explains everything later:
the poster as a single stroke (Cassandre) plus spatial thinking (Le Corbusier).
1932–1935: French authorities send him back to Zürich because he lacks the necessary papers.
He works as a photographer and designer for the Swiss National Tourist Office — brochures
and posters in the then-new technique of photomontage. (Photomontage: an image composed of
several photographs, cut and joined into one.) This is where the series he's remembered for
is made: photomontage with an extreme scale difference.
December 1935. he travels to America as photographer for Trudi Schoop's dance troupe and
stays in New York. He freelances for Harper's Bazaar (1936–38) under
Brodovitch. 1939. with architect William Lescaze he works on the Swiss
pavilion at the New York World's Fair. 1941. he starts making posters and ads for
Container Corporation of America. 1943–1946: in California he's a photographer and
designer at the studio of Charles and Ray Eames and does covers for the magazine
Arts & Architecture (work 06).
1946–1966: Knoll. Florence and Hans Knoll bring him to New York as a design and
advertising consultant. For twenty years he doesn't just make a mark, but a system:
a photographic style, a mark, a typographic grid, catalogues. In parallel, 1946–1957 he is
staff photographer for publisher Condé Nast.
1949–50. he directs, shoots and edits the film The Works of Calder for MoMA. At Yale
since 1951 — first as a visiting critic for photography, then from 1961 to 1976 as
professor of graphic design. 1953–68. he is consultant to the Guggenheim museum
(publications and signage). 1960–79. he photographs the work of Alberto Giacometti.
He dies on 8 May 1984 in Southampton, New York.
Why he matters: in his work photography stops being an illustration inserted into a
layout and becomes the layout itself. (Layout: the arrangement of image and text on the
page.) It's one of the few truly original ideas in the history this timeline covers.
Influences
Studied with
École des Beaux-Arts, Geneva — painting, 1925–1927
Académie Moderne, Paris — school of Fernand Léger and Amédée Ozenfant (painting)
Paris — work alongside A. M. Cassandre (poster) and Le Corbusier (architecture and exhibition design), 1929–1932
Charles and Ray Eames (the Arts & Architecture circle)
Who he studied under
Geneva, painting — eye before craft.
Académie Moderne — Léger and Ozenfant. Ozenfant, with Le Corbusier, is a founder of
Purism, a movement that keeps from Cubism a clean plane and a clear outline of the
object. Hence Matter's feel for the plane.
Cassandre — the poster as a single blow, not a composition of details.
Le Corbusier — exhibition installation: the body moving through space, not just the
eye looking at a page.
What he steals
Surrealism — a 1920s movement that joins the incompatible, as in a dream. Cooper
Hewitt explicitly writes about the surreal quality of his montages. It comes from
frontal juxtaposition (juxtaposition: two images placed next to each other, without a
transition). The disproportion in Matter's work isn't a compositional trick, but a
painterly strategy taken over.
The photo lab — enlarger, scissors, glue. What software does for montage today, he did
by hand — and that's why every join is decided, not accidental.
Purism and Cubism — plane, cut, plan.
Who he influenced
Via Yale (25 years of teaching) to Chermayeff and Geismar and the generations after
them. More broadly: photomontage with an extreme scale difference, common today in ads and
on covers, has in him one of its key predecessors. The same holds for product
photography as a carrier of identity.
Class of sources. Catalogue data (MoMA, Cooper Hewitt, People's Graphic Design
Archive, Knoll, Calder Foundation) is documented; descriptions of what is seen in the
image are reading of the work. All eight works have been seen in image form. The palette
for each work was measured from a reproduction; for the film (08) it was not measured.
What it is — poster for the Swiss National Tourist Office. Photogravure (intaglio),
101.6 × 63.8 cm (MoMA 153.1968, gift of the designer). The technique matters. In
photogravure the ink sits in the recesses of the plate, and the depth of the recess
determines how much ink transfers to the paper. That's why it gives a full,
continuous photographic tone that lithography of the period doesn't. (Lithography:
printing from a flat plate on which only the greasy drawing accepts ink.)
Composition — reading of the work: a face with ski goggles takes up almost the
full width and roughly the top 75% of the height. It's tilted, the gaze goes
up-right. The goggles sit in the top third and mountains are reflected in them —
the landscape is inside the face, not behind it. Bottom left, on white snow, is a
small skier mid-descent, about 5% of the format's height. The scale ratio of face :
figure is about 15 : 1. The eye enters the goggles (the darkest and brightest point),
slides down the nose and chin to the lettering, and only then "finds" the skier. Depth
doesn't come from perspective, only from the difference in size. Everything is
frontal.
Colour — reading of the work: three tones, not two. The face is in a warm
brown-ochre monochrome (photographic tone). Blue appears only in the reflection in
the goggles and in a band of sky on the right, red only in the lettering. The snow
is white. Colour is scarce and therefore works as a hierarchy: blue = distance and
cold, red = the word, brown = the body.
Typography — reading of the work: PONTRESINA sits in the bottom sixth, across
the chin. The letters are heavy, narrow, capitals (capitals = uppercase letters),
red with a white edge — drawn, not set from a typeface (lettering). "Engadin" is
small, white, below right. The lettering doesn't sit on the seam between the two
photographs (the face and snow meet diagonally, at bottom left), but across the face —
so it reads as part of the montage, not as a caption. The specific typeface is not
named: this is a letterform drawing, not a typeface.
Message — it's not "a beautiful mountain", but the face of a person who was
there. Tourism is sold through experience, not through landscape. It passes the
five-metre test because of the face.
Why exactly this way — photogravure with few colours is cheaper than full colour,
and it carries photography better. Photomontage is the only way to bring two
distances into the same plane. The constraint and the idea coincide. The reflection
in the goggles saves one image: the landscape is there without taking up any of
the format.
What would kill it — equalising the scales: it would become a postcard with two
motifs. Or colouring the face naturally — the unity of tone holding the montage
together would disappear.
What it is — a poster for the Swiss Tourist Office, for Matter's birthplace.
Two-colour photogravure on white wove paper, 101.9 × 63.7 cm (wove: smooth
paper with no visible texture).
Notes on sources: Cooper Hewitt dates the poster to 1935, while MoMA (5333) dates it to 1936.
Composition — citanje rada + Cooper Hewitt's description: an enormous knitted glove,
palm toward the viewer, takes up the right half, about 45% of the surface. It partly obscures
the smiling face of a young woman in the left half — a game of hiding, not montage for montage's sake.
Upper left is the silhouette of a cable car cabin and Alpine peaks against a blue sky. From
the cable car, thin white cable lines radiate; they cut across the sky and lead the eye from
the title downward, toward the face (Cooper Hewitt states this explicitly). Below is a narrow band with
"schweiz suisse switzerland" across the collar. Everything is frontal, nothing in perspective.
That is why the size mismatch reads as surreal, not as depth. Cooper Hewitt says the
montage does not read as one coherent image, but as a series of concentric ideas. On the palm is
an eight-pointed star — a traditional Norwegian knitting motif (selbu). The sign for
wool and cold is taken from the knitter, not from graphic design.
Colour — citanje rada + measurement: four values can be distinguished on the print — blue
sky, brown-sepia face, grey-white glove with black motif, and orange-red in the
typography. MoMA lists the print as a two-colour photogravure, and measuring the reproduction
supports this: saturated colours cover only about 20% of the surface. The blue of the sky (#547585) and the orange
in the word "berg" (#96583a) are muted; everything else is a warm grey photographic tone. Two
colours, their overlap, and the white paper can yield more values than there are colours. The key
point is this: each plane has its own value — the sky cold, the body warm, the glove
neutral. This holds three separate photographs together as one image.
Typography — citanje rada: "engelberg" large, in lowercase, across the sky
above the montage — and split by colour in the middle of the word: "engel" light, "berg"
orange-red. Cooper Hewitt sees an echo of the Swiss flag (red-white) in this.
The word thus reads doubly too: Engel = angel, Berg = mountain. "trübsee" sits below
on the right, smaller, also in lowercase. At the bottom, in small type, "schweiz suisse switzerland" — three
languages in one line, a solution for the foreign market without a second version of the poster. The typeface is
a heavy block grotesque (grotesque = a sans-serif typeface); specific typeface not confirmed.
Message — a greeting with a gloved hand. In three seconds: winter, joy, closeness. Not a
single sentence of explanation.
Why exactly this way — in two-colour photogravure the palette is limited to two colours, so
everything has to be solved through tone and scale. The star on the glove is an ornament that already
existed in the object — it did not need to be drawn.
What would kill it — equalising the values of the planes (everything in the same tone, or everything in full
colour). Or placing the glove beside the face instead of over it: the game of hiding disappears,
leaving only a collage. A third killer: shrinking the glove toward the hand in perspective.
Notes on sources for this entry. For this work there is technique, measurements, a museum description of the composition,
a published analysis (Cooper Hewitt's blog), and a good reproduction.
03 · Winter Time is Real Holiday Time — Switzerland (1936)
What it is — a poster from the same series, but in English, i.e. for the foreign market.
Photolithograph, 101 × 64.1 cm (MoMA 169.1950). (Photolithograph: a lithograph in which
the image is transferred to the plate photographically.) The tone is coarser than in the photogravure, but the
technique allows more colours.
Composition — citanje rada: a smiling female face with a white visor takes up
the upper left half (about 60% of the width and 55% of the height) and looks down-right, toward the
text. The entire background is a slanted hatching — the slope and snow are rendered as a series of lines, not
as a photograph. (Hatching: a dense series of parallel lines that produces tone.) Along the diagonal from
upper right to lower left, five to six tiny skiers are scattered. This creates
distance without perspective: not through the scale of space, but through the number of small figures. One skier is
framed by a circle, as in a lens or a gunsight — this is the point around which the diagonal turns.
The white Swiss cross stands on the left, at the centre. The eye moves: smile → down the diagonal of
skiers → SWITZERLAND. The face is mass, the text is direction.
Colour — citanje rada: the face is in a brown duotone, as in 01 (duotone: a photograph
printed in two colours, usually black and one warm tone). The background is a cool grey-blue
hatching. Green appears only in the word SWITZERLAND, red only in traces (the cross, the glow
around the skier). Warm and cool are separated by object: the person warm, the mountain cold.
Green is the third, "neutral" colour of the word, so it does not compete with either of them.
Typography — citanje rada: two layers. "Winter Time is Real Holiday Time" is in a
white italic grotesque with a dark outline (italic = slanted letters) and is laid along
the slope's incline — the text follows the diagonal of the hatching. SWITZERLAND is large, green, in a heavy
grotesque, sloping slightly upward from left to right across the lower third. Matter solved the longer
English sentence by laying it on the diagonal: the text does not cut across the format, but
"skis" over it. Specific typeface not confirmed.
Message — the same formula, translated for a different market. The question for every system: what
stays the same when the language changes? With Matter, the image, because the image needs no translation.
Why exactly this way — the tourist office targets the British and American markets, and
photomontage is a language that works without translation.
What would kill it — the sentence set horizontally. It would immediately need two lines, would cut
through the face or the skiers, and the only link between text and image — the incline — would vanish. A second killer:
a photographic mountain instead of hatching; the tiny skiers would get lost in it.
What it is — not a poster, but a programme or flyer for the Corso Theater in Zürich.
Letterpress, 21.3 × 14.9 cm; printed by Buchdruckerei Zum Gutenberg AG. (Letterpress:
ink is taken up by the raised surface of the type or plate, as with a stamp.)
It comes from the Jan Tschichold collection (MoMA 723.1999) — thus a work that one of
the most important typographers of the 20th century thought worth preserving. The date is wide
(1930–40), the Swiss period.
Composition — citanje rada: a photomontage of a woman's head takes up the lower two-thirds,
centred. The eyes are replaced by blue hatched blotches — a surrealist move.
Across the forehead and hair runs a row of six to seven tiny dancers, like a crown.
Over everything sits a thin white circle, about 60% of the format wide — a geometry that ties the head,
the dancers, and the lettering into one sign. The background is dark smoke or clouds, of a photogram
character (photogram: an image obtained without a camera, using objects placed on photo paper); below is a
dark mass. The eye moves: circle → dancers → eyes → down.
Colour — citanje rada: grey photographic monochrome + one blue, only in the eyes.
One colour in two small spots is enough to give the whole page a temperature. The same
recipe as in 01, where blue appears only in the glasses.
Typography — citanje rada: "Corso" is hand-lettered, white, upper left,
loose, like a neon sign. "Zürich" is small, right of centre. There is no typesetting in the classical
sense — the word is drawn, as in 01.
Message — a nightclub, a revue, a dream: the dancers in her hair are literally what is in her
head. Entertainment, not landscape. A useful contrast with Hofmann's Basel
theatre posters: Hofmann would never have replaced the eyes.
Why exactly this way — small format and letterpress: the photograph has to be a single cliché
(a metal plate with a relief image), so everything is solved in the montage before printing, not in
printing. Every additional colour is an additional pass through the press — hence blue kept to a minimum.
What would kill it — removing the circle. Without it, the head, the dancers, and the lettering are three separate
things on a dark background.
What it is — a war poster for the Office of Emergency Management, the US federal
agency for emergency situations. Offset lithograph, 102.5 × 75 cm (MoMA 118.1944).
(Offset: lithography in which the ink transfers from the plate to a rubber cylinder first,
and only then to the paper — fast and cheap for large print runs.)
Composition — reading of the work: here there is no disproportion of scale. One
element: a black-and-white eagle with spread wings takes up about 80% of the format, on the
diagonal (head lower left, wing upper right), on a white ground. The photograph of the eagle
is the poster. Everything else is flag stripes in the corners (blue at top, red lower
right) and text. The eye travels: AMERICA upper left → down the wing → beak → "Civilian
Defense" at bottom. The eagle's diagonal is the only line.
Colour — reading of the work: black-and-white photograph + red and blue only as
stripes and words. The flag is broken into pieces and distributed across the corners,
never whole. CALLING and "Defense" are red; AMERICA is white on the black wing. Colour
carries only two things: the nation (stripes) and the verb (CALLING).
Typography — reading of the work: heavy grotesque (sans serif), capitals. AMERICA and
CALLING sit in two lines upper left, on the black wing — white on black, red on white;
each line on its own ground. Below is small "Take your place in", then large "Civilian
Defense", with a diagonal rhythm of stripes behind it. The civil defense emblem (blue circle
with white triangle) sits lower right, like a stamp. Specific typeface not confirmed.
Message — five years after arriving, a Swiss immigrant makes a poster in which America
calls its citizens. The eagle is not a coat of arms but an animal attacking: the
photograph delivers a threat that a drawn emblem could not. In three seconds: danger + flag.
Why exactly this way — offset instead of gravure: wartime print run, speed, lower cost.
Offset doesn't give the tone of gravure, so there's no montage with soft gradations. One
hard photograph on white is what offset does well. The method adapted to the technique:
the photograph is still the layout, but without disproportion.
What would kill it — the whole flag in the background. The stripes work because they
are a fragment; a full flag would turn the eagle into an illustration on wallpaper.
What it is — covers of the magazine Arts & Architecture by John Entenza, the organ of
the Case Study House programme (a series of experimental modern houses in California).
Format 10 × 12 in (25.4 × 30.5 cm). Louise Sandhaus (Earthquakes, Mudslides, Fires &
Riots: California and Graphic Design 1936–1986, p. 58, cited in PGDA) writes that Matter
arrives in Los Angeles in 1943 as a photographer and designer for the Eames studio and stays
until 1946. At the magazine he works alongside Lustig, who designed the magazine's
logo in 1942, and John Follis.
Composition — reading of the work, two different solutions.
April 1945: a close-up of a child's face (black-and-white photograph, large eyes) takes
up the right two-thirds. Over it run thin red lines — ellipses, like orbits around the
head, and lower left is a red hand or plant. The photograph and drawing sit on the same
plane, no shadow.
May 1948: a white ground and one thick black band that curls across the whole
format (cut paper or a photographed strip). Beside it are tiny black flecks and one small
red figure lower right. No photograph of a face — pure shape.
Shared trait: one large element edge to edge; the logo at top as the only fixed thing.
Colour — reading of the work: both are black + one red on white. In 1945 the red
is a drawing over the photograph; in 1948 it's a small accent beside the black mass. The
same two-colour discipline as on the Trübsee poster, a decade or so and a continent later.
Typography — reading of the work: the logo "arts & architecture" in narrow small
letters across the top; this is Lustig's 1942 logo, not Matter's. The date is small,
red. There is no other text: the cover is image and header, nothing else.
Message — a cover that does not show a house, though the magazine is about houses. The
same principle as on Lustig's book jackets: a sign for the subject, not a
picture of the subject.
Why exactly this way — a small magazine, small budget, and an audience already inside
the subject: abstraction is permitted.
What would kill it — a photograph of a house. The magazine would become a catalogue.
What it is — a twenty-year collaboration with a furniture manufacturer. Delivered:
photographic style, mark, typographic grid, colour-coded catalogues — that is, a
system, not a mark.
Composition — reading of the work, on the series' best-known ad, "Chimney Sweep",
for Eero Saarinen's Womb chair: a light, empty ground; a red chair right of centre; in
it a chimney sweep in a sooty work suit, sitting relaxed, tool in hand, legs crossed,
filthy from head to toe. The object and figure take up the central third; everything around
is empty. Lower centre is a small text block with a thin red vertical accent. There is no
ambience, no room — studio, not interior: the chair is isolated like an exhibit.
Colour — reading of the work: the white/light ground is the base "colour". One
red carries both the product and the typographic accent — the product's colour is the
ad's palette. Everything else is black-and-white (the sooty clothing). In the catalogues
colour serves for coding, not decoration.
Typography — reading of the work: a small block centred at the bottom, grotesque
(sans serif), about 3–4% of the ad's height. The text is deliberately too small for an
ad, because the photograph carries the whole message. Specific typeface not confirmed.
Message — the product isn't described, it's proven. A chimney sweep in soot on a
light-coloured upholstered chair is a durability test for the fabric staged as an image:
one photograph replaces a paragraph about the material. A dirty body in a clean form is both
a joke and an argument. According to Knoll's writing, Florence Knoll didn't like the ad at
first — she considered it undignified — while Hans Knoll backed it. Matter said he got the
idea at the railway station in Basel. The ad ran in The New Yorker for thirteen years.
Lesson: this is the cheapest copywriting there is — find the situation that proves the
claim, instead of writing the claim.
Note on sources: the ad's year of creation differs across sources. Knoll.com ties it to
1947, Knoll International to 1955; the Womb chair enters production in 1948. MoMA states the
ad ran in The New Yorker every year from 1958 to 1971.
Why exactly this way — Knoll sells furniture to professionals, and for that audience
the light and the camera angle are the argument. Hence the most useful conclusion from
this piece: lighting is identity.
What would kill it — an ambient photograph with décor. The object disappears into the
scene, and the system falls apart because every photograph would be shot differently.
What it is — a film, 20 minutes, 16 mm, colour, sound, produced by New World Film
Productions for MoMA; the first colour film about Alexander Calder. (Calder: American sculptor,
creator of the mobile — sculpture that moves on air currents.) Direction, camera and
editing: Herbert Matter. Music: John Cage — confirmed by the film's title sequence. Narration and
production: Burgess Meredith. Calder and Matter's son Alex appear in the film.
The recording is available on the Calder Foundation YouTube channel.
Composition — reading of the work: the shots are poster-like — one object, frontal,
centred, on a neutral background, with shallow depth of field (only the object is sharp,
the background blurs). Example: Calder's wire spiral fills the entire frame like a
drawing on a plane, with no other element. Same method as in the Knoll photographs:
the object is isolated so it reads as a diagram of itself. With Calder, movement is the
content itself, so film is the only medium that can describe it.
Colour — reading of the work: the film is in colour, but the title sequence is pure black and white. The objects
stand on neutral backgrounds — the colour comes from Calder's own planes, not from
the set design.
Typography — reading of the work: the title sequence is not in a grotesque, but is
brush-lettered by hand — soft white letters on black ("THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART FILM
LIBRARY", "A New World Film presentation", "Music John Cage"), then reversed, dark letters on a
light ground ("Photography & Direction Herbert Matter"). The author whose posters are
in heavy grotesque for film chooses handwriting — because Calder's work is bent wire, not
a constructed form. The letter follows the material of the subject, not the author's mannerism.
Message — a sculpture that moves cannot be photographed; it can only be filmed. This
is a rare, pure case where the medium chooses the content, not the other way around.
Why exactly this way — a photographer who works his whole life with fragment and cut
naturally moves into editing in time. For a motion designer this is his most important work: the same
hand on the poster and on the film.
What would kill it — a title sequence in grotesque. It sounds trivial, but it would turn the whole film into
industrial documentation; handwriting tells the viewer that the object was made by hand. Another
killer: narration that explains every shot.
Bridge to practice: poster · graphic design · motion
Poster
Two elements, extreme scale difference, one plane. That's the whole poster. Everything
else (colour, typography) can be ordinary. Check on the next poster: is the size
ratio drastic enough? If it's "a bit bigger", it isn't.
Frontal, no perspective. The disproportion only works if everything is parallel to the picture
plane. The moment perspective enters, the brain reads it as distance and the effect disappears.
Each plane in its own tone. The trick on the Trübsee poster: cold sky, warm body,
neutral object — and three photographs become one image. Directly applicable to duotone and
screenprint.
Text in the montage, not below it. PONTRESINA overlaps the chin; the sentence on Winter Time
lies on the slope's incline. Text that touches the image becomes part of it; text in "empty space"
remains a signature.
Graphic design
Limit yourself to three elements. Matter cut with scissors, so he couldn't have twelve
layers. In Photoshop and Illustrator this discipline has to be imposed on yourself.
Lighting is identity. When you do an identity for someone with a physical product —
furniture, food, equipment — first lock down how the product is photographed, then
draw the mark. Knoll held its identity together for twenty years mostly through this.
Colour as code, not as decoration. Catalogues with colour-coding: colour carries
information about category. Cheap, useful, and it immediately looks systematic.
Motion
Scale disproportion is also an editing move. A cut from close-up to wide shot in the
same frame composition, without moving the camera, is Matter's poster translated into time.
(Close-up: face fills the frame; wide shot: the whole scene is visible.) Powerful, and cheap
to produce.
The edge of the image is a path for text. The place where two images touch in the frame is
naturally the place for text to enter. In After Effects: mask the text's entry exactly along that edge.
Movement as subject, not as decoration (the Calder film). Before animating, ask: is there
something here that must move to be explained? If not, the animation is
decoration. And that's legitimate — but know which of the two you're doing.
Physical constraint as a tool. Three layers per frame, two colours, no gradients. The same
discipline that made Matter's montages sharp.
Bad imitation
"A bit bigger." A face twice the size of the figure, instead of fifteen times. The brain reads this
as a badly framed photograph, not as a montage. Cause: the motif was copied (face + landscape),
not the rule (the disproportion must be absurd).
Perspective through the back door. The figure in the distance slightly blurred, the face sharp, a shadow beneath
the face — and the disproportion turns into "depth", exactly what Matter avoids. Cause: the
Photoshop reflex to blend the montage "convincingly".
Colour by object. The face in natural colour, the landscape in natural colour, the text in a third —
three worlds on one sheet. Cause: it wasn't understood that two-colour gravure
forced Matter to use tone as glue; with full colour this has to be imposed deliberately.
Hidden seam. The edge between two photographs is concealed with a soft mask. In Matter
the cut is visible and deliberate — the montage is acknowledged, not hidden.
The brief through their eyes
First move: one photograph that carries the whole format and another that is twenty times
smaller. For a film festival: a close-up face of a viewer in the dark, frontal, edge to edge. A lit
screen is reflected in the pupils — like the mountains in the sunglasses on Pontresina. The hall and
the film are thus in the image, without taking up a single piece of the format. The second image is tiny: one viewer
entering an empty hall, in the lower corner, at a scale of about 1:15 relative to the face. Everything frontal,
no perspective.
Second move: colour by plane. The face in warm monochrome; blue only in the screen's reflection;
red only in the festival name. The name runs across the chin, large, drawn, as part of the montage —
not as a caption below the image. Dates and place small, on one line.
Third move — a system, as for Knoll: before the second piece, lock down how it's photographed. One
light source, from the screen, from the front; the same crop; the same place for the name. Every day of the
festival gets a different face, and the shooting rule stays the same — that rule is the identity. Programme
booklet: faces on the cover, films inside. Ticket: just an eye crop with the reflection. Motion
title sequence, ten seconds: fixed camera, black. A tiny figure sits down in an empty hall.
Cut — no zoom — to a face over 90% of the height, with the screen in the eyes. The name enters masked along
the edge of the face. The only thing that moves is the flicker of the projector light.
Exercises
Two elements. A poster of exactly two photographs, size ratio at least 1:6, everything
frontal, text overlapping the image. Two colours. One evening.
Tone by plane. Take a montage of two photographs and unify them by giving one
colour, and leaving the other a neutral tone — don't colour everything the same.
Light as identity. Photograph the same object three times under three different lights and decide
which one is the brand. Write down the setup, so it can be repeated.
Motion study — "Disproportion as a cut" (5 s, AE)
One shot, fixed camera, white background. Seconds 0–2: a small figure (5% of height) walks
left. At second 2, in a single frame and without easing (slowing at the start and end
of the movement), a face at 90% of height bursts into frame, frontal; the figure stays the same and keeps
walking. Seconds 3–5: the word enters masked exactly along the edge of the face. Rule: nothing scales
smoothly — the scale changes by cut, not by animation. Two colours (a Tint effect on the face, flat
colour on the word).
Rebuilding the benchmark — Engelberg–Trübsee 1935
Format 1 : 1.6 (63,7 × 101,9 cm), portrait. Layout (estimate from the print):
- top ~25 %: sky, cable car upper left, cables as thin lines running right-down;
- title over the sky, small letters, about 12 % of height, cut by colour in the middle of a word;
- face in the left half, from about 25 % to 90 % of height;
- glove in the right half, palm at the centre of the format, about 45 % of total area; overlaps
the face by about a quarter of its width;
- bottom ~7 %: one line of small text in three languages.
Exercise: 45 minutes in Illustrator, four elements (sky with cable car, face, glove,
text), each planned in its own value — without looking at the original. Then compare two things:
where the title ended up and whether you placed the glove over the face or beside it.