Usually when I choose a typeface for Typographica’s annual I have a clear idea of what to write, of which story I want to tell. This time, however, I decided on a whim to trust my gut feeling and choose a release that elicited an immediate and visceral reaction when I first saw it.
Originally I had no clear idea why I selected Daphne Script, other than it brought back memories of my fondness for Vivaldi, one of the faces from my student years which I now love to hate — or hate to love, depending on the mood of the moment. This made for an interesting challenge, as I had to find out on the job what caused this love at first sight.
Daphne Script is based on Georg Salden’s Daphne. Designed almost half a century ago, this amazing hybrid is situated somewhere between a slanted display sans and a script. Daphne Script reprises the original Daphne’s squareness very subtly in its surprisingly superelliptic frame, marrying it to a generous x-height, squat yet refined capitals, curvaceous swashes, and a lovely set of alternates.
Yet there is much more to this design; its controlled elegance is deceiving. Salden rationalizes the gestural quality of his handwriting without neutering it. In a veritable tour de force, he manages to retain its original humanity, its warmth and sensuality. The tension in Daphne Script is almost palpable. It feels as if — like a playful, mischievous lover — Salden indefinitely keeps the design on the edge. Daphne Script’s characters can barely be restrained, as if the letterforms are bursting with vigor, leaning into their immaculate vectors and struggling to free themselves — calligraphic magmas trying to erupt from their typographic encasing, ready to explode all over the page with swooping curves and exuberant swashes. This precarious equilibrium, this preorgasmic tension, creates an incredible energy that is difficult to ignore.