So how did it work on lead/antimony/tin typefaces where you can’t really negative kern because of the rectangular type body? Would type come in pairs on a separate block like ligatures would? Or was that not even a thing with physical typesetting?
Subscripts and superscripts can be done on a typewriter, by adjusting the vertical distance by half a line/one “click”, distance to small for a lever. Of course, the characters remain the same size.
For anyone interested in this subject, and near Boston, I highly recommend the Museum of Printing in Haverhill. Lots of exhibits and artifacts from pre-Colonial bibles through photo typesetting and some rare computers. They even do demos of a working Linotype machine.
The raised letter does not sit centrally on the slug block like on a typewriter, but would be against the edge or even extending slightly over. According to the Wikipedia article, the overhanging bit (they illustrate a capital T) is what is actually called the kern, hence the name.
After being diagnosed with lead poisoning*, I donated my type moulds and matrices to Sky Shipley at Skyline Type Foundry.
*at age 70, the symptoms are pretty much identical to turning 70. Nevertheless I was cautioned to limit my exposure to lead. Still trying to find gloves I can set 8 point type in without going stir crazy… 6 point is hopeless, but not something I used very often.
I AM GLAD YOU ASKED.
TL;DR: negative kerning (or any custom kerning, really) wasn’t much of a thing in the world of physical type. That would have been the province of lettering. Custom logo engravings and things like that.
Multiple different approaches were applicable depending on whether you you’re talking about handset type or machine-set type, and in the latter case whether you’re talking about Linotype or Monotype machines.
Handset type: depending on the quality of the type design and the complexity of the purchased font, there could be multiple kinds of ligatures, but in reality, when setting at book or newspaper sized text, the typesetter optimized for speed and used the regular individual character sorts for almost all uses. The type designer just did their best given the limitations, and of course the width of the sort varied dependent on the character, so that was good enough. Even today, nobody’s hand kerning body text extensively. That said, the really good stuff could be artful about how the character fit on the body of the type, so it could have overhangs from the factory, so to speak. My additional understanding was that stuff was fragile as hell.
With handset type for display usage, like posters, large ad headlines, whatever, you could use a type saw to miter the body of the type to create overhangs that would allow one letter to snug up to the next more than the out-of-the-box sorts would go.
Machine set: the Linotype was even more constrained than handset to a certain degree, because you cast an entire line at a time, meaning that you couldn’t get fancy with a saw. And while there would be common ligatures, there weren’t that many, and once again, they really slowed the typesetter down. But again, these machines were used for newspapers and books primarily, where volume and speed outweighed art.
The Linotype had one limitation that really presented a challenge to the type designers. Each individual matrix used to cast the type, representing a single letter or punctuation mark, had two actual molds on it. For example, it might have the regular and the italic version of that letter. Or maybe regular and bold.
In any case, this made things tough as you could imagine that in a perfect world, a bold capital E might want to be wider than a regular E. But no, they had to be the exact same width because they had to sit on the same matrix. But the designers did well and you’d be hard pressed to really see the compromises.
The Monotype: My white whale. I want one of these have not been able to find one. It’s the closest to fine typesetting that the machine world could provide. The operator sat at a bizarre keyboard, making all kinds of decisions about copy fitting and kerning. Everything the operator typed made it on to a punched paper tape. That tape was then fed into the casting unit that did various kinds of magic to make everything fit as it should. Not only have I not been able to get my hands on one of these, I haven’t even ever seen one in real life. So this is all somewhat hypothetical.
Nice! I’ve met Sky a few times. When I was still casting type, I got blood tests every year. Fortunately I never showed any evidence of exposure. TBH I was much more worried about the asbestos around the crucible.
I’m afraid that’s a lost cause.
Anyone who USED a typewriter in that era (me for example) would known AT A GLANCE that those document didn’t come out of a typewriter.
I’m not sure what that proves. “Typeface” and “font” are both legitimate terms. You’d have to see the context of each to know if they’re being used “correctly” or not. Also, “font” has another meaning, as in “baptismal font” and the such that will skew the results, too. I don’t doubt that “font” is being used in places where “typeface” would be more appropriate, but I’m also sure “font” is being used properly in many cases where it’s referring to all variations of a “typeface” as a family.
You can have a font without kerning but which still has different widths for the different letters, and in fact some fancier typewriters could do that.
And just to be sure I understand the distinction correctly, a “font” would be something like “Times New Roman”, but a “typeface” would be “12 point Times New Roman italic”? Or is it the other way around?
TL;DR: A font is a thing (a set of metal type, a computer file). A typeface is the design you see when a font is used.
Originally, when typesetting involved physical components, the system worked like this:
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Type family: all the different weights and styles of a typeface (e.g. Helvetica bold, italic, regular, etc.)
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Typeface: a specific design maybe to include the size (Helvetica bold, or 12pt Helvetica bold)
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Font: the set of sorts in a case that instantiate a typeface and size. (“I only have a partial font of 12pt Helvetica italic. I ran out of lowercase Es.”) Or, a magazine full of the matrices used to cast the type (“that magazine has a full font of 16pt Helvetica mats, bold over regular, but no ligatures”)
In the electronic world, the system has adapted to where most pros originally would have distinguished the terms this way:
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Typeface: a specific design maybe to include the size (Helvetica bold, or 12pt Helvetica bold)
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Font: the computer file you install that allows you to access and use the typefaces it contains the software for. (“This floppy has the Helvetica bold and regular fonts. I forgot to copy over italic.”)
I’m sure you’re correct in that that is how the terms are used by specialists in the field, but in modern common usage, “font” and “typeface” mean the same thing, although I think “font” is more common.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines “font” as
Originally (in letterpress printing): a set of type of a particular size, weight, and style (such as roman, italic, bold, etc.), forming part of a type family. In later use also (in digital typography): (a file containing) a particular style of typeface (such as roman, italic, bold, etc.); (hence generally) a typeface or type family (such as Times, Helvetica, etc.).
Note the part after “hence generally”. Also html and css use the keyword “font” to refer to a typeface.
I meant “individual” variations there.
The terms are certainly blurred, but I’m not sure ‘[they] mean the same thing’ just because people are ignorant of the differences.