Critique / Notes on book design by Derek Birdsall

When I started at design school in the mid eighties, there was very little written or published about graphic design. By the end of the decade, titles like Emigre and The Graphic Language of Neville Brody had helped trigger an explosion in graphic design publishing that continues unabated. A multitude of choices are now available covering every conceivable topic under to the broad heading of graphic design. Many are worthwhile, and have contributed greatly to a new spirit of discourse in the industry.

Unfortunately, many are a waste of time and money, particularly the eye-candy designer profiles, the graphic equivalent of a bad concept album: high production values, seductive images and just the right amount of self-indulgent, self-initiated, self-agrandising nonsense. Refreshingly, the publishing glut has also given rise to a welcome suite of alternatives that are the opposite to those described above, books that leave you intrigued, informed and just a little inspired. Notes on book design by Derek Birdsall is one such book. 

As its (extensive) title suggests, notes on book design by Derek Birdsall offers more than just a surface treatment of the career of this legendary British graphic designer. The book is broken into 3 parts, beginning with the process of book design, detailing the  essential elements, methods and systems that Birdsall has used in a career spanning some 40 years. The second chapter showcases a selection of Birdsall’s favourite books, and the the index is left for works in progress, typefaces and grids. 

The book is typeset economically in Schreibmaschinen Schriften¹ and Futura. Birdsall notes that the typewriter face is the one he used on his Olivetti Lettera 35, and relates that it wasn’t the preference of his publisher as it was deemed too ‘mannered’. Reading Monospaced typesetting can be challenging, but Birdsall’s careful setting makes it perfectly readable, and its low-key aesthetic is entirely appropriate for the instructional feel of the book.

Displayed in a clear, efficient manner (no distracting drop shadows), the 360 spreads and covers reveal a remarkable designer continually and rigourously honing his craft. What resonates is that, above all, Birdsall retained one simple guiding principle in his work — an absolute respect for the images and text with which he was entrusted. The specimen settings of his favourite typefaces might seem antiquated to many PM (post-mac) designers, but are a welcome reminder of a time when typography was an integral part of a designer’s craft, not something left to a computer’s preferences.

The beauty of the book is that it educates as it inspires. Refreshingly candid, Birdsall offers a plethora of straight forward advice to any budding, or seasoned, publication designer. His notes reveal the systematic, considered approach that book design requires, and offer a window to what makes many successful designers tick. I’ve often found artist’s sketches more compelling than their finished works as they reveal so much more about the individual; perhaps that’s why I like this book so much.

In the introduction he describes book design as ‘the decent setting of type and the intelligent layout of text and pictures based on a rigorous study of content.’ Following this disarmingly simple rationale has meant that much of his work is timelessly brilliant, and how refreshing to see such an uncomplicated job description in this age of information and brand architects.

Like most of his work, Birdsalls’ book is something to admire and reference for years to come.

(DH)

 

¹ I have searched high and low for this beautiful typeface. Like the elusive Haas Unica, it appears to have been withdrawn from sale.

 

 

/Back to Text

Birdsall designed countless Penguin covers throughout the 1960s.

These leaflets for Lotus from 1962 demonstrate an apparent fondness for the Swiss Style.