Written Component: Fake Order 2.0
Line of Enquiry
In Fake Order 2.0, I explore how typographic systems can appear logical but gradually fall apart into rhythm and sensory experience. By introducing hesitation, visual disruption, and ambiguity into typography, I question the assumption that design must always clearly communicate meaning.
Project Development
When I created Fake Order 1.0, I used letterpress printing to create pages where meaningless text appeared structured. But during my first tutorial, my tutor suggested I explore Futurism and recommended the exhibition Break Line, saying it might help with how I think about text and rhythm. A classmate also asked a difficult question: “Why are you using letterpress? Are you really breaking it?” That moment made me realise I wasn’t truly challenging the system—I was simply using it without questioning its process or order.
After visiting Break Line, I understood Futurism not just as a visual style, but as a reaction to the rise of modern technology and a desire to destroy outdated visual traditions. Artists used broken typography and disrupted grammar to express their excitement and frustration with a rapidly changing world.
With this understanding, I started Fake Order 2.0. I completely let go of letterpress and built a new system based on minimal layouts, strict spacing, and colour-coded rhythm (red = collapse, yellow = hesitation, blue = silence). I worked through many clumsy drafts and layout tests. Slowly, I felt the visual language become more focused. I wanted to make the reader sense that something logical was falling apart—but gently, rhythmically.
In my second tutorial, after presenting this new version, my tutor gave another important insight. He appreciated my shift away from letterpress, but said I was still staying too close to Futurism visually. He reminded me that Futurism came from a specific time, when artists wanted to scream through design. He asked me: “How would that same revolutionary spirit look today, in our smooth, digital, perfectly ordered systems?”
That question helped me realise: my project is not about mimicking Futurism, but about translating its energy into today’s context. While their typography shouted, mine whispers. I’m responding to a different kind of system—one that hides its instability behind perfect alignment, clean logic, and design clarity. Fake Order 2.0 is my way of quietly revealing that hidden collapse.
Annotated Bibliography
1. Marinetti, F.T. (1973). Futurist Manifestos. London: Thames and Hudson.
Marinetti rejected traditional grammar with radical energy. I first tried copying his style, but it didn’t feel true to my context. Later, I kept his disruptive spirit but made it quieter—letting logic fall apart slowly.
2. Mallarmé, S. (2004). A Roll of the Dice Will Never Abolish Chance. Cambridge: Exact Change.
I learned from Mallarmé how spacing and silence can create rhythm. My classmates helped me realise whitespace can be just as meaningful as text.
3. Rock, M. (2009). Fuck Content. Available at: https://2×4.org/ideas/2009/fuck-content/
Rock’s essay helped me stop obsessing over meaning. He reminded me that form itself can speak. This gave me confidence to use nonsense and still feel it has power.
4. Beinecke Library (2019). Beyond Words: Experimental Poetry and the Avant-Garde. Yale University.
This showed me that poetry could be visual. Early experiments felt flat, but later I tried mixing rhythm, layout, and image together.
5. Estorick Collection (2024). Futurism and Experimental Poetry. London.
Houédard’s concrete poems taught me that text can be perceived, not just read. I tried to make my pages do the same—inviting the eyes to feel, not only decode.
6. Drucker, J. (1996). The Visible Word. University of Chicago Press.
Drucker showed me how typography can express emotion. After many test pages, I created a simple system of colours to express emotional rhythm.