Acrylic was initially drawn from samples of the Frenchiest of all Swiss Sans-Serifs, namely Brasilia designed by Albert Boton for Hollenstein Phototypo in the late 1950s. Incrementally removed from the historical source in both its aesthetics and ideology, Acrylic aims to combine a pragmatic with a critical attitude.

Its three multiplexed sub-families offer a rational foundation in accordance with post-war modernists’ aspiration for transparency and functionality. Yet, Acrylic questions the self-confidence of the seemingly immovable monument that is the Neo-Grotesque genre by introducing a moment of existential uncertainty.

Referring a pivotal moment in design history, Acrylic attempts to meditate on cultural phenomena emerging from the mid-20th century, an era of great aesthetic, cultural and economic euphoria.

One emblematic example of this enthusiasm can be observed in the extensive use of synthetic materials for consumer products from the 1950s onwards. In his essay on “Plastic” (published as part of “Mythologies” in 1957) Roland Barthes elegantly excavates the prosaic alchemy of these magical substances and their ubiquitous potential. A novelty at the time, these materials have since been deeply embedded into our everyday, modern lives and thus in our cultural DNA.

Similarly, the Neo-Grotesque genre of typefaces — springing from the same period and sentiment — can be seen as the quintessence of Modern design ideology. In their air-like, infra-ordinary omnipresence and thus sly hegemonic force they easily elude our critical senses.

Acrylic plays on the eerie comfort evoked by this tactile, material and visual memory. It taps into the uncanny nostalgia oozing from tightly spaced logotypes promoting nylon stockings, instant spice mixes of dubious quality, and oh-so practical food containers.

The Acrylic suite is comprised of three families gradually progressing from proportional (Ortho) to fixed-width (Mono) spacing. Each of them comes in eight multiplexed weights making Acrylic a potent contestant for the design of UI elements.

Acrylic’s hyper-closed apertures make for captivating word images with a self-contained appeal desirable in logotypes and headlines. In body copy, it delivers a sober, yet accessible tone with an increasing degree of bureaucratic charm towards the monospace end of the spectrum.

Expressive variation is achieved using the implemented OpenType Stylistic Sets. The provokingly named Pervert Alternates (ss03) introduce the exaggerated overhangs and underbites reminiscent of Brasilia’s original design. The Pseudo and Mono families sport two additional Stylistic Sets rocking Acrylic’s rational foundation. The Skeptic Alternates (ss04) introduce “naked” variants for narrow glyphs, removing the artifice of serifs often found in monospace typefaces and creating an arhythmic, moderately awkward texture. Closing these unmotivated gaps, the Nihilist Alternates (ss05) promote another moment of irritation by inserting ridiculously chunky glyphs in place of the amputated variants.

Elevated from a happy interpolation accident to a mannerist take, these OpenType Bugs™ infuse Acrylic with a defiant attitude. Like Jacques Carelman’s self-sabotaging objects, these stylistic interventions intend to bare the arbitrariness of functional frictionlessness. In an act of auto-iconoclastic exposure, Acrylic questions the illusion of transparency claiming the pinnacle of post-war modernist design doctrine.

Here, obviously, a paradox arises. Can — and if so, how — an intrinsically functional object use its own aesthetic means as a medium of critique? Fully engaging in this conundrum, Acrylic embraces this infinite feedback loop of conflicting ideologies, happily oscillating between its inner ambitions and its outer reality. All this in a desperate attempt to justify its existence, as a cultural marker, an artefact, and a commodity.