Trainstationsignagespotting

I’ve written elsewhere about the pleasure to be found in collecting. Doesn’t really matter what; as long as it’s not sea shells or infectious diseases. I’m not sure when my collection compulsion began, but certainly by age 11 it was in full swing. On a four month family trip around Europe and North America, I did the typical kid thing of collecting a sew-on patch or sticker from every country and major city that we visited. Not so typical though was that I also collected sugar. Sugar sachets, sugar cubes, sugar straws; all the many and varied forms went straight into my pockets, and with the help of my sister I returned to Australia with several bulging shopping bags full of sugar. I’m not sure what my parents were thinking? I guess at least it kept us quiet.

I’m not sure I can explain the appeal of sugar. Maybe seeing a common, everyday item with unfamiliar words like ‘Sucre’, ‘Zucker’ and ‘Zucchero’ printed on them made it seem exotic? More likely it’s just because they were everywhere and (importantly) were free. Also free were the many cardboard beer coasters that I collected when we were travelling around Germany. My parents were quite happy to encourage an interest in German beer coasters, but German beer itself would have to wait for another time.

I returned to Germany with Kate in January 2005 for a capital week in Berlin. I loved Berlin. If I had to pick a place to live in other than my beloved Old Melbourne Town, Berlin would be very high on the list. I didn’t collect any beer coasters this time, but as we bombled around Berlin, I found myself engaging in a spot of bahnhof beschilderung bespritzend, which in English translates to ‘train station signage spotting.’ Although, as we’re talking German, perhaps that should be 'trainstationsignagespotting'?

Related to trainspotting, though without the street cred only Ewan McGregor climbing out of a filthy toilet can bestow, trainstationsignagespotting was not a hobby I’d ever considered before. And it only occurred to me now as I noticed, to my great surprise, the range and variety in type and form across the many signs dotted around Berlin’s rail network. I wouldn’t have expected der Volksdeutsche to tolerate such disorder and lack of conformity, but maybe that’s just a stereotype? Certainly it’s a stereotype the story of the Ampelmännchen would appear to confirm. Although also refute, I guess. Aren’t we humans funny that we can grow nostalgic for the symbols of an oppressive regime? And yes, as the owner of an Ampelmann t-shirt, I know I’m not helping.

But anyway, there they were, and I no complain. I thought the variety was wonderful and the depth of history it implied was remarkable. Unfortunately, as we were only there for a week, a few days had gone by before I really noticed, but I photographed what I could in the time I had left. (And also the time that the long-suffering Kate was indulgent enough to allow, as she stood arms crossed, foot tapping, waiting at the station's exit.)

And so, here, for the benefit of all maknkind, is my collection of Berlin’s Train Station Signage (work in progress, hopefully) with type identification where appropriate.

Friedrichstrasse 1: First up on Friedrichstrasse is good old dependable rock, nothing beats Helvetica, which is unfortunately all we have for our rail signage here in Melbourne. A system wide re-brand in 2003, and what typeface do they choose? Only the most ubiquitous typeface of all time that says nothing about Melbourne except, “We wish we were Europeans.” Missed opportunity. Absolute tragedy.


Friedrichstrasse 2: This is apparently a custom font designed for the Deutsche Bahn by Henning Krause of MetaDesign, which has since been replaced by a new superfamily from Erik Spiekermann and Christian Schwarz.


Hallesches Tor


Hansaplatz


Nollendorfplatz


Potsdamer Platz 1: I love a tasty slice of blackletter, and this sample — a simplified form of blackletter known as Schaftstiefelgrotesk — is a cracker. It’s so sturdy and expressive and, I think, the perfect visual representation of the German language which, as a lover of the German language, I mean in a good way.


Potsdamer Platz 2


Stadtmitte 1


Stadtmitte 2


Stadtmitte 3: This is FF Transit, designed by MetaDesign in the early 90s and based on the Frutiger family. FF Transit comes in three variants: one for print, one for backlit signs, and one for frontlit signs, with the last two designed to compensate for the visual distortions that occur with illuminated signage.


Unter den Linden 1: Helvetica Bold feels right at home in Germany, but its use here is a crime when you consider that elsewhere in the station you'll find...


...Unter den Linden 2: My absolute favourite. Another wonderful example of schaftstiefelgrotesk type. It's such a shame that Hitler liked it so much, as well. The affection of Hitler is a hard thing to live down. Although Volkswagen is doing alright, I guess? Come on, People's Car; how about helping out an old friend and using a bit of schaftstiefelgrotesk on the next Beetle?


And finally, Zoologischer Garten in my favourite sans, Univers, which was designed in 1956 by Adrian Frutiger.


Trainstationsignagespotting was a compulsion that all but instantly disappeared when I returned home to Melbourne. A good dose of Metlink’s Helvetica cleared things up like a dose of penicillin.

As a footnote to this story, the sugar I collected sat for years in a cupboard in my bedroom. As with most collections, after the effort you’ve put in to building it, you’re loathe to just throw it out, even after its meaning and significance have long since gone. In the end it was my sister who came up with a solution. Ever keen to save a penny, she sat down one day and laborisously made her way through sachet after sachet, cube after cube, and straw after straw, combining them into jar after jar, and putting off a trip down to the supes for sugar for some time thereafter.