Book Review: NASA Graphics Standards Manual

Graphic designers Jesse Reed and Hamish Smyth have been busy. In addition to their day jobs as associate partners at iconic design firm Pentagram, they have been reprinting and reissuing old and seemingly mundane graphics standards manuals – guides made by designers and issued to clients to establish unity and consistency across visual communications – in sumptuous new editions.

First was the pair’s reissue of the New York City Transit Authority’s Graphics Standards Manual, Massimo Vignelli’s and Bob Noorda’s iconic and comprehensive redesign of the New York subway signage and identity. An original ring binder version of the manual was was found in, of all places, a basement locker at Pentagram. Reed and Smyth immediately recognised its brilliance not only as a functional manual, but as a piece of design in its own right. After scanning the manual page-by-page and presenting it online, they crowdfunded a limited print edition which lovingly (and accurately) reproduced the original manual better than ever. Like many major projects of this scale, the politics behind the project is often just as interesting as the designs themselves. The NYCTA Manual is no exception, with the long, storied history of Vignelli and Noorda’s work the subject of Christopher Bonanos’s fascinating essay included with the crowdfunded print edition.

Now the pair have turned their sights heavenward with a reissue of the NASA Graphics Standards Manual – the source of the famous (or infamous) red “worm” logo. In 1974, Richard Danne and Bruce Blackburn of firm Danne & Blackburn responded to a request from NASA for a corporation-wide rebranding. This rebranding was part of an ambitious effort sponsored by the federal government to improve and, importantly, humanise government agencies; a project creatively named the Federal Graphics Improvement Program.

(L–R) NASA Seal 1958–present; NASA insignia (the "meatball") 1958–1975, 1992–present; NASA logotype (the "worm") 1975–1992

Since the late 1950s, NASA used its famous (again, or infamous) “meatball” logo, consisting of heavy serifed letters, a space capsule orbiting the letters, a red arrow and various other symbolic iconography. It was (and remains) complex, difficult to accurately reproduce and was not designed for a technological era where computers were playing a greater part in reproduction of designed elements. Fax machines and photocopiers couldn’t reproduce it properly and it looked terrible at smaller sizes. Design wise, it was a corny mess of comic elements unbefitting of the most forward-looking agency in the world. Such a design would not do; it could not do.

I won’t go into too much detail about the life and times of Danne & Blackburn’s masterful creation – Bonanos’s included essay again does a much better job at that – except to say that while the logo (and associated graphics standards) was and remains a thing of beauty, many at NASA hated it. By 1992, the new administrator Dan Goldin decree that everything old would be new again, and the meatball was reinstated as the official NASA logo. The worm would be nothing more than an experimental interregnum, irrevocably bound up with disasters, like Challenger, of 1980s NASA. The future was now the past and the only way forward was backwards, to hark back to the golden era of NASA and the Apollo programme. Or so it might have remained had our über design nerds Reed and Smyth not given the NASA Graphics Standards Manual the same tender, loving and caring reproduction they had done with the NYCTA manual.

Which brings us to the reproduction itself. First off, it is an object of extreme beauty. The book just oozes quality and Reed and Smyth’s passion for not only this manual but for book design in general is evident from every facet of the delivered physical object. The book arrived packaged in a “static shielding” pouch; a shiny sheath that couldn’t be any more “space age” short of being launched on a shuttle and returned to Earth. It’s also a material that would be immediately familiar to anyone who has worked with computer components that come sealed in such a material when new to avoid damage from electrostatic discharge. Very suitable for this book.

Upon removing the book from said shiny pouch, we are treated to the worm in all its red glory. Interestingly, the red is only specified as “solid red plus solid yellow”, but each copy of the original Manual included a page of “NASA Red” perforated swatches to send to printers and designers to match, a page lovingly reproduced in this reprint, although sadly not perforated!

The opening pages are given over to a forward from designer Richard Danne and the aforementioned essay from Christopher Bonanos – both detailed and necessary contributions that add a great deal of context and value to the manual that follows.

Each page of the manual has been reproduced in the best possible quality, but remains unaltered. It is presented exactly as it would have been seen in its original form: recto printed with the hole-punched edges visible on each page. Even the tabbed dividers are reproduced in full. What was most surprising were the fold out pages, the first of which featured a large grid drawing of the worm for large applications. It’s a great throwback to the pre-desktop publishing era when such sheets were indispensable for accurate, reproducible design. It took me back to the lettering books that were all the rage with us kids in the early 1990s, before WordArt came along and destroyed literally everything good about desktop design. There is little I hate more than Microsoft Word and I will curse it with my dying breath.

But I digress, these fold out pages – all ten of them – are quite something. Each provides important details for application of the identity, from an introduction to layout grids, to how building signage should look and even to the worm’s placement on the space shuttle. Sploosh.

The final few pages feature reproductions of the initial presentation given by Richard Danne and Bruce Blackburn to NASA executives in 1974. These pages stand out as they are printed on full-bleed black. The quality of the printing and the stocks is exceptional. This is a striking design choice, evoking the feeling of sitting in a darkened (and probably smoke-filled) room and seeing these 35mm transparencies projected before you. Well played, Reed and Smyth.

As mentioned in Bonanos’s essay, this meeting resulted in Danne & Blackburn winning the job, but also at this very early stage, perhaps revealed hints of NASA management simply not getting the design. When the designers asked for the executives’ feedback, Richard Danne recalls one exchange between NASA administrator Dr. James Fletcher and his deputy Dr. George Low:

Fletcher: “I'm simply not comfortable with those letters. Something is missing.”
Low: “Well, yes, the cross stroke is gone from the letter A.”
Fletcher: “Yes, and that bothers me.”
Low: “Why?”
Fletcher: [Long pause] “I just don't feel we are getting our money's worth!”

And then, a few minutes later:

Fletcher: “And this color, red, it doesn't make much sense to me.”
Low: “What would be better?”
Fletcher: “Blue makes more sense ... Space is blue.”
Low: “No, Dr. Fletcher, space is black!”

Anyone who has presented new ideas to managers would probably recognise an exchange of this sort. Even NASA ain't immune to that shit.

As a visual identity document, the Graphics Standards Manual is comprehensive. It lays out virtually every possible usage of the worm logotype. Most importantly for a document of this sort, it is accessible to the design layperson, even (or especially) if that person is literally a rocket scientist. In fact this is one of the great mysteries of the worm saga: why many at NASA, people who literally built the technology of the future, never took to this futuristic logo.

There was a strong amateur graphic design ethos at NASA: each mission patch was designed by the astronauts themselves and even the original NASA seal and meatball was designed by an amateur, James Modarelli, the head of Lewis Research Center’s Reports Division. To these rocket scientists (and engineers and physicists and chemists and administrators and comptrollers etc.), NASA’s logo isn’t about a consistent corporate identity, in fact such a concept is anathema to such a group. It was about something more human: the NASA family. Sure, the meatball was corny, but it was homely, and had been there through the good times and the bad.

For if you're ever confused where to put your worm on your Hubble Space Telescope

If that’s the case, then this whole Graphics Standards Manual speaks to an even more exciting time, when creating a new identity meant creating a new purpose: reshaping the future. The worm really speaks to the power and the optimism of design that is lost in today’s constant churn in identity and design (ugh...Instagram, what have you done..??!!).

Reed and Smyth have done a tremendous public service by reissuing this manual. It’s not just about good design, it’s about the potential for design to change things for the better. However, design can’t exist in a vacuum (ha), as the restoration of the meatball demonstrates. Design is subject to the whims of humans, just as it is reliant on those same people for its creation and implementation. Design needs humans and even the best design can be brought down by the people who created it.

Pages of typefaces make Richard happy

Interestingly, just as Reed and Smyth were working with Richard Danne to publish their reproduction of the Graphics Standards Manual, NASA released the original in PDF format on their website. Coincidence? I doubt it. Methinks there may be some passionate design nerds at NASA who would dearly love to see the worm back, and this was one way to honour the work of Danne & Blackburn.

Naturally, people inside and outside of NASA have very strong feelings about their logo. NASA is no normal agency – ask me my feelings on ATO or ASIC corporate identity and I will struggle to give you two shits – it is an agency which stokes the imaginations of entire generations around the world. To me, the worm is NASA. It’s what I drew on space shuttles and fantastical spacecraft of the imagination as a kid, even though the worm had been confined to the design dumpster of history a couple of years earlier. It’s the identity of the NASA I saw popular culture growing up: in movies such Flight of the Navigator and Space Camp (don’t judge me); in hours of documentaries, and pages upon pages of books and news stories. I was and remain a gigantic space nerd and there was nothing in my experience more futuristic than the four letters of the worm.

But now everything old is new again, and as comes with so much of today’s thoughtless appropriation of the past, we praise the past with little thought for the future. As the terminator of the worm, administrator Dan Goldin said when reinstating the meatball in 1992, “the magic is back at NASA”. Sadly, I reckon it was on its way out.

The Worm: 1975–1992. Forever in our hearts and imaginations.

National Aeronautics and Space Administration Graphics Standards Manual
Published by National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975
Reproduction by Jesse Reed and Hamish Smyth
Published by Standards Manual, LLC, 2015

ISBN: 9780692586532

Extent: 220pp
Hardcover, case-bound, with silver static shielding (plastic polyethylene terephthalate) pouch

My Kingdom for a Keyboard

Apple announced updates to its iMac lineup this week, along with an overhaul of three of the brands most venerable pieces of hardware: the Magic Mouse, Trackpad and Keyboard.

These three peripherals have always represented Apple's myopic pursuit of design at the expense of usability. None of them (with the possible exception of the Magic Trackpad) is better than what other manufacturers have on offer.

The Magic Mouse, for example, eschewed buttons as we know them and instead employed a touch-sensitive surface designed to replace them old-fashioned button things. Great in theory, but in practice it sucked. Using Google Maps or a similar page in a web browser usually resulted in unwanted rapid zoom-ins and zoom-outs as the mouse detected a scroll command that never was.

The Magic Trackpad goes okay in most regards, however it is very sensitive and, like the mouse, can often trigger gestures you did not intend. And, as a Photoshop user, a trackpad is no substitute for a mouse or tablet. That said, Apple's implementation of the trackpad is the best in the market and a pleasure to use most of the time.

But the worst (or best?) example of Apple's nearsighted pursuit of design for the sake of design is the Apple Keyboard — the worst-designed Apple peripheral since the infamous Apple USB Mouse (M4848), known derisively as the "Hockey Puck".

In an age of touch-enabled devices, the humble keyboard remains the most practical and important human interface device for computers. The vast majority of all computerised communication is carried via letters and numbers entered by fingers on keys, therefore the comfort and productivity of the typist should be of the utmost concern. Unfortunately, Apple — like almost all computer hardware manufacturers — have set themselves on a road to mediocrity with the design and usability of their keyboards.

Keyboards used to have bite. They used to announce their presence via the unmistakable clickety clack of mechanical switches. But this was not noise for the sake of noise, mechanical switches provide the best possible typing experience, with a good amount of travel (the distance a key must be pushed down before the keystroke is recognised) and a positive tactile response, that is to say the user knows when a key is hit and can move on to the next keystroke. These two properties, among many, make mechanical keyboards easier to touch-type on, which is why they are preferred by typists the world over.

Unfortunately, the mainstream computer world has largely abandoned mechanical keyboards in favour of rubber domes and other less tactile mechanisms. Apple's last mechanical keyboard, the Extended II (on which this post is being clickety-clacked) was discontinued in 1995 and now mechanical keyboards are largely the domain of gamers, usually tricked out with custom LEDs and a thousand-and-one programmable custom function buttons. "Features" which your average keyboard user doesn't need.

Yes, "design"

Apple's new "Magic" Keyboard utilises all-new scissor switches for its keys, similar to the previous Apple Keyboards and MacBook mechanisms, but with even less travel. At first type, this makes it quite difficult to touch-type on. It is important to note that this new keyboard does not use the butterfly mechanism of the new MacBook – a mechanism that provides so little travel and tactile response that one reviewer wanted "to cry a little", but it is not much better. While the size and design constraints of the ultra-thin MacBook make its keyboard a necessary evil, there is no such excuse with a desktop keyboard, other than the elevation of form over function. Sadly, using the new Magic Keyboard is not that different from the miserable experience of typing on a touch screen.

Happily, the Magic Keyboard does address a number of design issues from previous models. First, the keyboard is now a solid wedge shape, not a thin aluminium sloped casing with little support underneath (although Microsoft could be forgiven for being a little pissed at this). I have a collection of bent and battered aluminium Apple Keyboards, victims of close-run essays and reports.

The keyboard (along with the new trackpad and mouse) also contains an in-built rechargeable battery that can be charged via a Lightning cable (included). This is pretty neat, although it's another USB port that needs to be used on a computer where ports are already at a premium. At this point, I'd like to see an iMac with an integrated Lightning cable, but that in itself would offer its own design problems.

Apple's quick to claim the environmental high ground on its new peripherals with the use of batteries, rightly claiming it reduces use of alkaline batteries that would otherwise end up in landfill. But it also limits the life of the product with the integrated battery not replaceable by the user. Also, anyone who has owned and used the previous iterations of these products would be unlikely to persist with the Sisyphean task of using alkaline batteries – non-rechargable lithiums and rechargeable Ni-MH batteries were a mandatory part of every sale in my time in computer retail.

Still, with all these design goodies, the typing experience has been solely neglected, leaving touch typists to fend for themselves in a world of illuminated gaming keyboards that look more like offensive weapons and are named accordingly (Razer BlackWidow Ultimate, anyone?). This is why I persist with my Apple Extended Keyboards – arguably the best keyboards ever made – acquiring them in all conditions at all times, along with the USB adaptors required to operate them on modern machines.

Apple Extended Keyboard (front) and two Apple Extended Keyboard II

So what are the modern options? Sadly, unless you like your keyboards black and illuminated, there aren't too many options. For Mac users, the best alternative is one of the Matias Tactile series – they bill the Tactile Pro as the spiritual successor to the Apple Extended Keyboards. But good typing doesn't come cheap, a Tactile Pro will set you back over AUD$200 locally, so start saving your cents. You can still sometimes pick up a bargain on eBay by searching for vintage Mac equipment, although listings for Apple Extended Keyboards are both rare and usually expensive. It pays to search simply for vintage Macs that include a keyboard – often that "keyboard" is an Apple Extended Keyboard. Of course you will need an adaptor to get it up and running, but it's well worth it.

What I would really love to see is an Apple mechanical keyboard on the market again. A keyboard with all the nice design of current Mac hardware, but with the added benefit of being usable. A wireless mechanical keyboard with a similar footprint to the new "Magic" keyboard is not impossible. Perhaps call it the Apple Keyboard "Pro" or something. The problem is that as computer users, we have become habituated to mediocrity. We don't think of the keyboard interface as something that should be satisfying or even pleasurable, merely something that is just adequate. Most of us don't know there is something better out there – a keyboard that makes even the most arduous data-entry tasks strangely satisfying. A better keyboard makes us better typists and therefore better communicators. Would it be too much to suggest that a better keyboard makes us better people? Maybe. But you'll never know unless you try.

Plus-sized models: A few weeks with the iPhone 6 Plus (zomg unboxing video review)

Not every iPhone is used in a geometrically perfect, sterile white environment

The internet is full of conceited people who write conceited reviews of products and/or services in order to attract people to click on their content. For some, they believe a stinging critique of a particular popular product, like some form of digital tall-poppy syndrome, will render their own abilities (and web address hits) large.

I want to do no such thing. Instead of regurgitation of statistics and superfluous "feels nice in the hand" generalities, I am here to engage in a blitzkrieg of pith and (conceited) wit not for hits, but for my own gratification. Here goes.

The iPhone 6 Plus is rather large.

After owning it for a month, it no longer feels large and everything else feels small.

Its screen is 1920x1080 (or something), but due a deliberate quirk, renders everything at 2208×1242 before scaling down on the fly. Clever, but inelegant. Thus it feels a bit like a stop-gap in search of a higher-resolution screen (iPhone 6 IIs Plus S anyone?)

iOS 8 should more accurately be called iOSHATE for the feelings it engenders in the user community. I don't need to hang out in no support forums to know it's shit. (zomg appl its a knowen fawlt)

Safari crashes more than Mr Magoo on ice. And fuck me sideways, get rid of the fucking transition animations. Whether it's the PowerPoint-esque ICONS FLYING EVERYWHERE WOW, or the SOFT DISSOLVE (which is what happens when you turn off transitions), the phone feels more lethargic than Clive Palmer after walking up a flight of stairs.

iOSHATE is a generally buggy experience that transcends the specific nature of bugs and faults Apple and software engineers need for diagnosis reason. It's just shit.

Sadly, it's the first new iPhone I've owned that doesn't feel snappy. In the past, installing, say iOS 6 on an iPhone 4 meant dealing with frustrating slowness until a new phone came out. Then, whatever the new phone was, felt snappy and responsive. Now, the iPhone 6 Plus and iOSHATE feel slow from the outset.

For all these flaws, it's a great looking phone and the screen is very nice, notwithstanding the scaling workaround implemented by Apple. But enough of pleasant generalisations. Who wants those? Not me.

"Das wesentliche"

"The essential" is how Dr. Andreas Kaufmann, chairman of the supervisory board of Leica Camera AG describes the new Leica T Typ 701. After the marketing disaster of the Leica X Vario (which I wrote about last year), Leica made sure not to raise expectations of a "Mini M" or in fact anything like an M rangefinder with their new mirrorless camera.

And that is the right move to make. While the minimalist design of the Leica T fits the German company's historic gestalt, this new camera is arguably the first all-new minimal design the company has made. With the M-series bound strictly to its roots, the X-series to a standard digital camera design and the S-series to a non-mass market, the Leica T has the potential to transform digital camera design in the same way the M3 did to 35mm camera design.

First is its manufacturing process, as detailed here. It is "unibody" just like a MacBook Pro - perhaps this is the camera Apple would make if it were to ressurrect its QuickTake line under Jony Ive - milled from a single block of aluminium, then hand-polished for 45 minutes. You can see the polishing in real-time here.

Now, it may be a while before we see an Olympus or Sony mirrorless camera constructed in the same way, but it does put the possibility out there for a Jony Ive-spired design from Japan at some point in the future.

The Leica T's sleek lines and minimal controls renounce entirely the retrofied designs of mirrorless competitors such as Fujifilm and Olympus (not without irony as it had been noted that Fujifilm's X100 out-Leica'd Leica). This is a great decision, after all if Leica (with Audi Design) had produced a camera that looked like a shrunken M, what would be the point? Leica would be accused of aping Fuji (who in turned had aped Leica) at three times the price. No, Leica's new design breathes life not only into Leica but into the camera design world more generally.

But bigger than the looks is the thing that's on the back of the Leica T Typ 701: a 3.7" LCD Touch Screen. Yes, this is the least shit LCD ever put on a Leica camera. In fact, you might even call it the best, although I hesitate to use such a word when describing Leica's choices in LCDs. Leica is the company that co-invented the 35mm film format, perfected the rangefinder and engineered lenses of perfection. They have now turned their sights to a touch LCD interface - this is either going to be the best thing ever, or terrible and fail miserably. I have a strong feeling it won't be the latter, at least not according to initial reviews.

No Asian camera manufacturer has engineered a touch interface that makes any sense. No Asian camera manufacturer has designed a digital camera interface that makes any sense. The Japanese camera giants have been making the same, terrible cameras for years and hoping their extremely good sensors and electronics would tide them over. Not any more. This is Leica's chance to influence the world of camera design again, by creating a usable touch interface that isn't too far removed from an iOS home screen. Clean, sensible and lots of gradients German. I can't wait to have a play.

The Leica T seems to be all about quality, style and usability. It's also the first new Leica camera in almost 30 years to proudly display "Leica Camera Wetzlar". As with other Leica products, this camera is built and finished superbly, but does not break new ground in its specifications. A 16 megapixel APS-C mirrorless camera can be had for less than $500, but that's not the point. If you were worried about price, you wouldn't have been waiting for Leica's foray into the compact system camera world.

That said, I do find the price the most disappointing feature: AUD$2,300 for the body only, $2,300 for the 18-56mm zoom lens and $2,500 for the 23mm Summicron-T. No, I'm not going to delve into DPReview-style luxury loathing, but to me this is the camera that says Leica has their eyes on joining Cartier and Rolex.

Although Leica's products have always been expensive, the quality of the products coming from the major camera manufacturers is at such a high level now that, given a blind test, you would be struggling to tell whether an image was made with $1000 DSLR kit or a $50,000 medium format kit. Camera businesses are no longer concerned about image quality, but about survival in the smartphone era. Leica has identified one way to survive as making "premium" products and selling them to the wealthy in the west and the burgeoning super elite in China.

Perhaps, as a Leica user, it is sacrilege to say that there is little for an aspiring photographer to see in a Leica that they can't see in a Fujifilm X or a Sony A7. Where, for instance, a Leica M4 offered a size advantage at a price premium over a Nikon F3 in its day, today's mirrorless cameras offer amazing quality at a fraction of the Leica price. Where generations of aspiring photographers were rightly inspired by the workhorse Leica M and its famous users, today's Leica is much more a glitzy piece of extraordinarily well-engineered shoulder candy than photo workhorse.

In an interesting hypothetical, the Online Photographer asked what camera famous photographers of the 20th century would be using if they were alive today. Henri Cartier-Bresson, the post reasoned, would be shooting a Nikon V1 with the 18.5mm lens; Garry Winogrand, a reader argued, a Ricoh GR. Yep, it's hard to see a rarefied photojournalist these days using a Leica for anything but a bit of fun - "personal" work, they usually call it. It's even harder to imagine Robert Capa swimming ashore at Normandy with a Leica T Typ 701 with T-Snap and co-ordinated T-Flap. At least the resulting images, assuming the camera survived, wouldn't have been irreparably damaged in processing.

But I am bashing a straw man. This isn't your granddaddy's Leica. The T Typ 701 is a very latter-day Leica product - outside the box and somewhat contrarian. It'll no doubt be the first in a line of T bodies, perhaps one a bit more like a Leica M will be released at some point, built-in EVF etc. There will inevitably be many critics, but who cares about them? Leica certainly doesn't. And when you're Leica, why should you?

Retro Done Right

The Fujifilm X-T1

Fujifilm has announced the X-T1, the camera the Nikon Df could have been if Nikon had thought about it for more than 10 minutes (the Df was 4 years in the making, believe it or not). How far the X-system has come in such little time...

I am an art (and so can you)

You might have seen this facile semi-graphical maxim kicking around on everything from tea towels to Facebook covers +1 likes from me to Limited Edition Giclée Fine Art Prints® available in the gift shop (visit our Etsy pop-up store).

The above equation (which I've re-created using a bespoke digital imaging process) implies the act of creating art is simply in the doing. It implies merit (I could do that, therefore I will do that ∴ art). It also implies modern art is nothing more than doing a simple thing someone else hasn't already done, or perhaps taking something existing and labelling it "art".

Nineteen Eighty-Four

A great cover for a great novel. George Orwell's 1984 gets a creative treatment in the "Great Orwell" series published by Penguin. Designer David Pearson has also crafted new covers for other Orwell books in the series. The result is quite stunning.

The title and author are subtly debossed and graphically redacted. As Sir Humphrey would say, this was a "very brave" choice for Penguin to make. Rarely would a corporate publishing house deliberately produce a cover that obliterates the title, but in this case it is a graphical masterstroke. Pearson's covers for the other titles in the series are graphical homages to both Orwell's texts and to Penguin's history of cover design.

This cover's effectiveness is no mean feat, considering the numerous editions Nineteen Eighty-Four has been published in since 1949. While many of the more the literal photographic covers from older editions have dated considerably, Pearson's cover conveys the dread of the novel without resorting to melodrama. 

Canberra – Checks and Balances

I recently found myself in Canberra, with a few hours free at the tail-end of a quick trip. I had not visited the national capital for some years, certainly not since the Telecom Tower became the Telstra Tower (and subsequently the generic "Black Mountain Tower"), and not since I had discovered the camera to be more than a familial annoyance.

And what better time to visit Canberra, during the city's centenary year. As the creative director of the celebrations, Robyn Archer, acknowledged last year, "Canberra" has become a byword for politics and politicians. Our contempt and mistrust of the political class has been sadly and inextricably linked with the city they do much of their work in. But Canberra is much more than a bland, planned city. It is a striking city that houses many of the democratic and civic institutions we hold dear. But more than that, it is an expression of Australian confidence and of independence from the sometimes corrupting establishments of Sydney and Melbourne.

For the duration of my time in Canberra, I stayed almost at the foot of Mt. Ainslie at the former Hotel Ainslie, now a Mercure hotel. The hotel has been a Canberra landmark for decades, the original building dating from 1926–27. It is an architectural example of the Arts and Crafts movement, an anti-industrial movement popularised in Britain. The hotel provides an informative book in each room detailing the history of the hotel, detailing the key role it played in developing a social world on the fringes of the nascent national capital. It also provided accommodation for many of the public servants who found themselves employed by the Commonwealth.

1911 contour survey for the new federal capital, competition submission by entrant No. 29, Walter Burley Griffin. Original held by National Archives of Australia

Canberra Federal Capital of Australia preliminary plan, Walter Burley Griffin (1914) – National Library of Australia

The entire city is full of architectural gems. Although Walter Burley Griffin (ably supported by his wife, Marion, one of world's first licensed female architects) won the design competition for the new Australian capital, an unsupportive bureaucracy undermined Griffin at every turn, resulting in the architect being removed as director of Canberra's construction. Griffin subsequently severed all ties to the authority overseeing the capital's construction. The only fully realised Griffin design in Canberra is the grave of General Sir William Bridges at Duntroon. This would not be the last time in Australian history that architectural visions would be compromised by political meddling.

Although the extant civic buildings and cultural edifices are not what Walter and Marion originally envisioned, their fundamental design is remains in the axes and geometric precision of Canberra's layout. Oh, and there's a giant puddle in the middle of the city bearing the name "Lake Burley Griffin".   How Ceasar-like it was for Prime Minister Menzies to reject the naming of Canberra's lake in his own honour when he oversaw its construction...

Lake Menzies Burley Griffin and Kings Avenue bridge under construction – Wikimedia Commons

For an architectural photographer, Canberra represents a rare opportunity in Australia. Unlike the former colonial capital cities of Melbourne and Sydney, the civic buildings of Canberra are given their own space. Rarely do they jut up one against another. Furthermore, though a greater number of Walter Burley Griffin's finished architectural works in Melbourne, they have been subsumed by surrounding development, the Capitol Theatre on Swanston Street a prime example. 

The Stripped Classicism of the National Library of Australia is able to exist in its own context, without being overshadowed by adjacent skyscrapers or apartment blocks. Contrast this with the Victorian Classicism of Joseph Reed's State Library of Victoria, where the questionable apartment towers on the former Queen Victoria Hospital site has left the SLV an architectural shrinking violet on its own street frontage. Although the SLV remains a striking building internally – its famous dome the centrepiece – the library façade struggles to compete on its own merits. 

The Stripped Classicism of the National Library of Australia © 2013 – Fujifilm X100 & Adobe Lightroom

The National Library of Australia, however, recalls the classical buildings of antiquity ably standing in its own architectural space. It is a vital cultural building, housing, by law, every book published in Australia. 

Canberra's buildings feature a surprisingly wide-variety of architectural styles. From the post-war art deco to brutalist to whatever style you call Parliament House. The late modern Brutalism of the High Court of Australia building is a personal favourite. It rises from the shores of Lake Burley Griffin in its own architectural idiom. Like the institution it contains, the building is not to be dominated by those that surround it. It is impartial and impressive. 

The High Court of Australia (Edwards Madigan Torzillo and Briggs), 1980 © 2013 – iPhone 5 & VSCOcam

After a brief visit to Questacon (a gift from Japan for Australia's bicentenary) and its requisite giftshop, I was somewhat disturbed to find the walk down to the shores of Lake Burley Griffin consisted almost entirely of car park. Interesting use of lake frontage. In the mid-1950s, much of this area was earmarked to be the centre of government in plans drawn up by British urban planner William Holford, instead the national capital got a large thing nestled into the top of Capital Hill. I'll leave discussion of Parliament House for another time.

Reconciliation Place on the shores of Lake Burley Griffin © 2013 – Fujifilm X100 & Adobe Lightroom

The city's generally lo-rise civic and commercial buildings reminded me greatly of another capital city, the Icelandic capital Reykjavík. The two cities share an extensive road network as well as a reliance on buses for public transit. Fairly large distances separate buildings and sights, making the city almost unwalkable. My 5km walk from the city centre, down Commonwealth Avenue to buildings along the lake's shore is not be recommended with a family in tow.

I would like to leave it not as long until my next visit to Canberra. The galleries and museums (and their respective giftshops) await my visitation. I'll drive next time and pack a sturdy tripod and some slow-speed, low-grain black and white film. Until then...

Links:
Entrant No.29 – Walter Burley Griffin (NAA)
Walter Burley Griffin's submission, digitised (Cornell University Library)
Utzon Lecture Series – “100th Anniversary of Walter Burley Griffin: Griffin and Canberra”
Canberra House: Mid-century modernist architecture
Canberra100 – Maps and Markers (PDF)
Canberra100 – The Design Brief (PDF)

National Library of Australia and Flynn Drive © 2013 – Fujifilm X100 & Adobe Lightroom

Commonwealth Avenue Bridge © 2013 – Fujifilm X100 & Adobe Lightroom

Commonwealth Avenue, with Black Mountain and its tower in the background © 2013 – Fujifilm X100 & Adobe Lightroom

The new Canberra Airport terminal is befitting the national capital (with reasonable beer prices, too) © 2013 – iPhone 5 & VSCOcam

Forecourt of the High Court of Australia. An exemplar of late Brutalism © 2013 – iPhone 5 & VSCOcam

National Portrait Gallery © 2013 – iPhone 5 & VSCOcam