Eric Demay

In Mexico, almost all signage is hand painted directly onto the building. And to a modern man, it feels radical: nowadays, it seems like the only thing painted in our streets are pedestrian crossings, applied without even the slightest brush.

And to me, this reveals a deeper truth. The ability and willingness of certain cultures to directly shape one’s surroundings. To take control and try. Hands on, they’re interested and involved. We however, like most westerners, have unfortunately lost a lot of that creative communal touch. We’re afraid to “not do it properly”. We’re often too bound by customs and technological answers. We don’t even consider changing anything because without a degree or a job title, it seems as you’re not qualified enough to create something for others.

So it’s quite refreshing to walk down the streets of Mexico, and see, amongst a few McDonalds, Wal-Marts and fancy hotels, a vast majority of signs like these. They’re hand-painted, some even a little clumsy, but always honest and typographically rich.

Philippe Lamarre, fondateur du studio montréalais Toxa et du magazine Urbania, a évoqué quelques-unes de ces idées relatant son périple de recensement typographique à Buenos Aires, Berlin et Montréal. Deux articles à consulter:

• Le Devoir: Menace sur la diversité typographique des villes. «Que ce soit à Paris, New York, ou Hong Kong, aujourd’hui tout le lettrage commercial provient de découpes de vinyle faites à l’ordinateur. C’est d’une banalité désarmante. C’est l’effet Starbucks et McDonald’s appliqué au graphisme urbain.»
• Voir: Loin de la Carte Postale. «Parfois, ajoute-t-il, les affiches de chats perdus sont plus belles que n’importe quel design international et générique.»