Katherine Small Gallery wants you to pay attention. Its angled front stoop siphons into a small world of particularities. There are graphic design catalogs to peruse, handsome books to pore over, and a venerable zoo of typographic specimens to consider and compare. Michael Russem, a book designer of good humor and singular tastes, owns the exhibition space, graphic design bookstore, and not-so-private library. Aiming to share his collections with like-minded designers and introduce non-designers to the omnipresent and accessible nature of graphic design, Russem’s exhibits often serve as exercises in comparison and close looking. An early show placed book covers by Dick Bruna next to twentieth-century Japanese matchboxes. Another displayed pieces by Milton Glaser and Corita Kent alongside gum wrappers and ephemera Russem found on the street. Here, the design stories of everyday objects are treated with the same reverence as seminal works of typography and design.
The latest installment in Katherine Small’s quotidian curriculum is “Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Envelopes Addressed and Mailed by Type Designers and Notable Graphic Designers.” Drawing largely from Russem’s collections and correspondences, the exhibition explores how thirty-six masters of modern design approached the once daily task of addressing the envelope.
Envelopes pose an exceedingly simple and familiar design problem. The return address must slot into the top-left corner. The mailing address must be printed legibly in the center. Though there is room for decoration and experimentation within these constraints, these core features are universally shared. In this way, the envelope is uniquely suited for the kind of comparative design thinking that Katherine Small Gallery fosters. “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” is housed in two large flat files containing five drawers each. One file is nestled in the alcove of the space’s generous bay windows; the other sits along the gallery’s left wall between a well-stocked bookshelf and Russem’s desk. Given Katherine Small’s emphasis on the overlooked, this presentation is fitting: to view the envelopes, one must open and peer into each glass-covered compartment. The repetitive act of glissading a drawer along its tracks calls to mind the action of opening a long-anticipated letter. It conjures a sense of anticipation, recalling a time when correspondence was a tactile process rewarding patience and close reading.
The oldest letters in the exhibit illuminate the lost art of letter writing. Languid arcs of cursive mark the postcard of illustrator W.A. Dwiggins, while renowned designer Paul Rand crosses his Ts with an unhurried flair. An address penned by Rudolph Ruzicka in 1935 stacks gently upon itself along an invisible right margin. Their penmanship is thoughtful without being precious; their placement is satisfying but not entirely exact. The routine art of letter writing is signaled by these designers’ adroit response to the envelope’s design challenge.
Saul Steinberg provides one of the loveliest moments in the exhibition. Made famous for his contributions to the New Yorker, Steinberg was a logician of cartooning and, in his own words, “a writer who draws.” His characteristic visual wit and serpentine lines are immediately recognizable upon opening his drawer. On the bottom-left corner of Steinberg’s envelope, an upward-pointing finger directs the reader to “please forward” the note to Mr. Rand. At once artful and off-handed, instructive and entertaining, Steinberg’s missive is one of many small delights present in the show.
As a material object, the envelope has remained essentially unchanged since the twentieth century. As a means of communication, however, it has wholly transformed, supplanted by more convenient forms of digital communication. “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” obliquely traces this evolution through the contemporary letters on display. Some responses resemble the notes one might shuffle through among bills and catalogs. Others seem to treat Russem’s request as a challenge, transmuting the envelope into a design object through elaborate experiments with typography and layout. These design approaches—sometimes flippant, sometimes vigorous—each speak to the rarity of physical correspondence in the twenty-first century. That Russem had to solicit several envelopes for the exhibit, asking contemporary designers to send empty letters back to his Somerville studio, only exemplifies this trend. While a design story lies at the center of “Signed, Sealed, Delivered,” this quieter, disquieting story of communication lies at its edges.
Cyrus Highsmith, June Shin, Cem Eskinazi, and Marie Otsuka, four designers from Providence-based type foundry Occupant Fonts, provide some of the most exciting pieces in the contemporary display. They share, if not quite a flair for the dramatic, at least an eagerness to play within the constraints of the form. Shin’s envelope is dominated by four imposing abstract symbols meticulously rendered with an architectural force. Highsmith’s calligraphy abounds with tongue-in-cheek flourishes: the errant dot of a lowercase i, the lasso-like whorl of a K. Eskinazi’s contribution is stamped with an ornate, handmade ampersand. Otsuka’s alternates between delicate cursive and emphatic uppercase characters. In each of these responses, there lies a palpable sense of delight.
The labels accompanying each envelope are welcome signposts in this treasure trove of a show. Russem’s writing style, while remarkably informative, animates the exhibit with a buoyant sense of humor. Louise Fili’s label briefly describes her career as a graphic designer before adding that “her childhood home was burned down by Satanists.” Hermann Zapf’s notes that his letter arrived on the recipient’s twenty-fifth birthday and “contains a discouraging letter.” Some labels encourage a deeper look into Katherine Small’s archive: if a visitor finds themself drawn to the dreamy illustrations of Jan Tschichold, a label coyly offers to “bore you all day with examples of his work.” Like the type they’re set in—Highsmith and Shin’s Occupant Oldstyle—Russem’s text thoughtfully balances playfulness and legibility. We glean that the contents of the drawers are worth serious thought but perhaps not to be taken too seriously.
In its charming simplicity, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” invites us to make connections between—and collections of—that which we often overlook.
“Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Envelopes Addressed and Mailed by Type Designers and Notable Graphic Designers” is on view at Katherine Small Gallery through August 24, 2024.
