books evidence a formal bridge between celebrated classicists, like Bruce
Rogers and T. M. Cleland, with modernists like Herbert Bayer, Paul Rand,
and Alvin Lustig. In terms of current design history, however, Armitage’s
work is a rather wobbly bridge.
Rand grumbled that Armitage “overdid it,” referring to his
signature mammoth type treatments, usually on double-page title pages
(which he “invented”), extremely generous margins, and often widely leaded
serif body texts. Other orthodox moderns further accused him of being
modernistic. Armitage considered himself modern, however, and even
admitted with just a hint of false modesty in A Rendezvous with the Book
(George McKibbin & Son, 1949 ), a treatise on book design, that each one of
his books was “unsuccessful.” Yet there was a caveat: “I believe, [they were]
failures in the right direction... for they represent attempts to speak to
readers in a contemporary language of design... and to close the gap which
now exists between the written word and the manner of its presentation.”
The alleged ham-fisted typographical treatments that
characterized Armitage’s design were resolutely contemporary—the result
of a mission to demolish antiquated tenets and reflect his time. He angrily
wrote that the books of his era were “anonymous among their fellows and
are becoming comparatively impotent as a means of communication.”
Referring to the book field in general, he wrote, “the grand escalator that
has brought us all up from darkness and slavery into light and freedom,
has, in our time, lost its leadership, and is uncertain of its function and its
direction.” Sure, his prose often provided as much melodrama as his type,
yet he was convinced that mediocrity had so contaminated book design
that what he called “the stammering books of today” had to be totally
cleansed. So, mustering self-taught skill and homegrown bravado, he took
it upon himself to stem the tide, transform the medium, and leave a
significant body of work, even if it doesn’t always pass the test of time.
Born in Mason City, Iowa, in 1893 , the son of a cattle rancher,
Armitage’s passion for design may not appear to be genetic, but it definitely
consumed him throughout his entire life. He developed a keen ability for
making type reflect the Zeitgeist when, as an impresario for progressive
composers and musicians, he found himself habitually disappointed that
the circulars and posters advertising his concerts misrepresented his clients’
avant-garde practices. He deplored ersatz William Morris and other
antique graphic forms used to promote the likes of Anna Pavlova, George
Gershwin, or Igor Stravinsky. Thus, “the duties of writing copy and
designing printed material for these attractions were therefore added to my
general responsibility of building careers,” he wrote in A Rendezvous.
Armitage replaced run-of-the-mill and inappropriate graphics with modern
tuis.
(Tuis.)
#1