STEREOTYPES ON THE STREET

It is common to trace the
roots of the modern traffic signs back to the cave paintings at
Lascaux, the Roman compulsory measurement of routes, or the Chinese
road workers from the Chow dynasty. My fascination, however, is firmly
rooted in the twentieth century and the traffic sign as urban
expression.
The design of traffic signs employs two
main rules: reduction and consistency. Consistency gives a group of
independent signs the appearance of a coherent system. In this sense, a
road sign system is similar to typography: communicating with
prefabricated elements. Generally, figurative representations are
reduced to two dimensions and free of superficial information.
Contemporary
traffic signs use isometry instead of linear perspective. The essential
rule in isometry is that parallel lines do not converge (fig.1) in
order to avoid false distortions and to preserve the true
characteristics of an object. In his book The Gutenberg Galaxy Marshall
McLuhan also contrasts two-dimensional with three-dimensional drawing.
He argues that primitive drawing is two-dimensional, whereas the
drawing and painting of literate man tends toward perspective .
We
live in a hybrid era. The images collected here show that there are few
rules applied to the drawing of traffic signs. Today s versions range
from parallel to perspective projections, and most points in between.
Parallel lines converge whenever they need to. (figs.2-3)
Visual consistency-uniformity
Signs
intended to provide the same information are often substantially
different - visually speaking - across countries. Variations are found
not only abroad, but also regularly within one country. This huge
variety of signs is due to their cultural specificity.
There
have always been attempts to bring uniformity to the sign system. One
of the first dates back to 1929 - the Manual on Uniform Traffic Control
Devices , published by the American National Conference on Street and
Highway Safety and revised over the years. Since its application,
revisions have been published at least twice a decade. Each new
government tends to initiate a redesigning of the existing traffic
signs in order to find a better, more universal solution.
Reading
is a culturally- and historically-bound activity. A traffic sign is
context-based, and can only be considered in relationship to its
environment. For this reason, it is not necessary to have the same road
signs in Spain as in Sweden. The pictograms shown here document the
failure of universalisation. Many of the designs contrived to become
the universal model, but there is no need for one; all these road signs
pictured function perfectly in their specific environment. When I asked
people from the particular neighbourhoods about their signification,
they had no problems in interpreting them.
It is interesting
to compare the traffic pictograms with the iconography for the Olympic
games. The Olympic system has to be both comprehensible to an
international audience, whilst prestigiously specific to the host
country. During the 1970s hype of design consistency, the Munich
Olympic iconography designed by Otl Aicher was also applied to
Frankfurt airport. The sign systems later found application in the
wider public sphere (post-office, public directions, schools, shops,
markets, etc.). Today, attempts of universalisation have dissolved, and
Olympic pictograms are designed as ephemera, merely expressing the
spirit of the era. The sign systems for the Barcelona or Lillehammer
Olympic games are examples of adapting the visual language and
localising universal symbols.
Although the point of this
piece is not to discuss road signs from a semiotic point of view, it is
important to understand that traffic pictograms are icons. In semiotic
terms, an icon is a sign whose form is analogous to the object it
represents. Traffic pictograms are bound to empirical reality, their
form is grounded by physical resemblance as well as cultural
conventions. A pedestrian in Macao and one in Maastricht may look very
similar but their ideas of a symbol for a pedestrian may be
dramatically different. This explains why so many different versions of
the same road sign exist.
Steroetypes
I believe
traffic signs tell a lot about different cultures. They are a faithful
portrait of how people imagine themselves. I thought a comparison of
one simplification of the human form with another might provide some
interesting insights; theoretically, the pictograms should match
national stereotypes. These stereotypes function by connecting the
culturally-bound expectations with the preconceived, simplified
impression of the characteristics of a person, figure, drawing.
I
like stereotypes because they are usually based on truth. The Dutch
might disagree - since I ve lived in the Netherlands, I haven t seen
many around here with wooden shoes or living in windmills, yet the
Dutch would also be the first ones to say that the Germans are
arrogant, the Belgians are dumb, and the French drink too much wine.
Stereotypes
can be compared with existing traffic signs. Life in southern Europe is
often described as being much slower then in the north of Europe.
Compare the pictogram of a street-crossing sign from Portugal (fig.7)
to its Dutch equivalent (fig.8). The design of both signs is identical,
but the Dutch children have a definitely different pace of life.
It
is the European convention to depict a small girl in front and her
older friend behind, holding her hand. For some reason, all the
European children go from right to left, except one: in Prague (fig.9)
I found children going from left to right. What is the reason for their
action? There are two possible explanations: they want go against the
mainstream, or they are just confused. The second idea seems more
convincing, since they are much younger then their contemporaries from
the West.
The Slovakian children also break the rule, but not so
explicitly as the Czechs. While the boy runs to the left, the girl
stops and thinks where to go. (fig.10). I also found a variation of the
same sign with the boy slightly inflated (fig.11). Slovak pride,
perhaps.
Case study 1: Footpaths
Across Europe,
the footpath sign usually pictures an adult male with a small girl,
possibly his daughter. Again I found two near-identical silhouettes -
one from the Netherlands, and one from Austria. The Dutch are renowned
for their tolerance and openness, and indeed their pictogram faces us
directly (fig.12). The Austrian sign, however, turns its back and walks
away (fig.13). The same pictogram in France is more stylised, so it is
not possible to say which way the man and the girl are walking
(fig.14). Also, the man lost his hat on the way, and the girl has had a
haircut. You may wonder where the rest of the family is. I found them
in Germany. (fig.15): mother and son were walking around Kassel. I felt
sorry for the split family. The Dutch tried to avoid the problem in
their latest design: they created a unisex figure (fig.16) - one of the
few pictograms I found without a specific gender.
Case study 2: Roadworks
In
the roadwork pictograms I considered three aspects: the amount of work
done, style of working, and general attitude. The first notable point
was that the European workers face the opposite direction to
footpath-users, though I have no idea why. The reduction to two
dimensions is compensated for by more detailed outlines in Austria and
Germany (fig.18). The Austrian worker is particularly distinct, with
attributes of the true worker: rolled-up sleeves and boots. He is also
one of the few that actually seems to enjoy digging the hole - even
singing whilst on the job. We all know that the Germans and Austrians
are hard working, a fact confirmed by the amount of soil the German man
has dug (fig.18) compared with the Slovak (fig.19). Also, The Dutch
digger also didn t manage to do so much, but then he is significantly
smaller (fig.20). The modern workers have not done anything yet: the
Dutchman hasn t even started (fig.21), and the Frenchman is similarly
relaxed (fig.22). Perhaps it also has to do with the size of their
brains - heads are apparently much bigger nowadays - maybe they just
spend more time thinking before beginning manual work. Once again, the
Slovak sign system demands special consideration: they are strictly
hand-made, all valuable originals, varying from mopping men (fig.23) to
lifting ones (fig.24). I also found a pedestrian disguised as a worker.
(fig.25) Finally, the one from Lebanon is probably a war veteran, and
manages to work with only one hand (fig.26).
Who s responsible?
Road
signs should carry visual information explicitly, to which people
should react as the designers intended. Because there is an immense
difference between the visual literacy of people living in Paris
compared to people from a small village in Eastern Slovakia, though,
designing the pictograms effectively requires a great knowledge of
culture, traditions, history, semiotics, and interpretation theory.
Road signs seems to be an extremely complex matter, and I was
interested to know who designs them and what their qualifications are.
I
rang the Ministry of Transportation in Slovakia to ask who designed the
traffic signs. They did not know and recommended that I call the
Ministry of Internal Affairs. I called the Ministry of Internal
Affairs, who said to call the Police. I called the Police, who referred
me to the Ministry of Transportation. A bit Kafkaesque.
I
tried a different strategy - sending letters. I sent a letter to the
Ministry of Transportation, and to the Police. A few weeks later I
received a letter from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, Department of
Transport Police, explaining how it works. The letter said the
following:
The above-mentioned problems are solved in the
Slovak Republic on two levels. The basic element is the judicial
regulation (MV SR No. 90/1997 Z.z.) which in its supplements contains
renderings (shape and symbols) and a signification of traffic signs,
traffic devices, and special devices. It also establishes a basic
elements of its usage. Design of the shapes, colours, and symbols of
traffic signs was based on the recommendations of EU/UN. This
institution was informed in a written document about the new judicial
regulation as well as of the application of some new traffic signs.
Essentially,
they were trying to say that the designing of the traffic signs is
controlled centrally by the European Union and some fine European
designer creates different signs for different regions, though this is
hard to believe when you see the results.
It was not
difficult to find out who manufactured the traffic signs. I rang them
and asked where they get the designs from. The man on the phone said
that he designs them himself. His name is Mr Ligac. He has been working
in this company for fifteen years without ever having seen any design
models or guidelines. When I asked how he approaches the design of a
new sign, he answered that he has a book, Olympic games 72, and that he
finds a lot of good drawings there. I m only trying to make them more
human , he added. It was not difficult to find the book he was talking
about. When we compare the pictograms from the street with the
pictograms from the Olympics in Munich, it is apparent that Mr Ligac is
doing a good job of humanising them.
Conclusion
In
2002 Europe will adopt the single-currency Euro. The banknotes valid in
eleven countries will feature unidentifiable European monuments. They
are a blend of historical elements; on the Euro 100 there is a typical
European bridge that does not exist, on the Euro 20 a generic gothic
window, and on the Euro 10 a typical Roman portal.
The
research presented here is a reaction to the tendencies of
standardisation. The same trend can be observed in the design of
traffic signs; identical design can be found today in Germany or in
Portugal. It would not be easy to choose the one that represents the
best European character . To help the quest a little I have morphed all
of the pictograms into one (right), which might offer a solution.
Pedestrians that are not men nor women, walking without haste but not
really dragging their heels, not really in any particular direction; a
bit aimless.
This text emphasises that all languages are
local, and suggests the use of working laterally, of reading a culture
through its own symbols. It also serves as a simple reminder that
nothing is neutral. Increasing the legibility of the world through
uniformity denies the richness of experience.
About this article
This article is reprinted from Dot dot dot, graphic design / visual culture magazine, with permission.
About Peter Bilak
Peter Bilak is a graphic designer based in The Hague, NL working in the
field of editorial, graphic, type and web design, on a scope of
cultural and commercial projects. He designed several fonts for
FontShop International, and custom typefaces for visual identities. In
2000, he organized and curated and exhibition of contemporary Dutch
graphic design at the Biennale of graphic design in Brno, Czech
Republic. He is one of the founding editors of dot dot dot, graphic
design and visual culture magazine (together with Stuart Bailey, J rgen
Albrecht, and Tom Unverzagt). In addition to daily design practice,
Peter Bilak acts as a visiting tutor at the Royal Academy in The Hague,
and regularly gives talks and workshops internationally.
About Dot dot dot
Dot dot dot is an independent, after-hours, graphic design magazine
intended to fill a gap in current arts publishing. We are not
interested in re-promoting established material or creating another
portfolio magazine. Instead, we offer inventive critical journalism on
a variety of topics related both directly and indirectly to graphic
design.