The origins of Bering can be traced back to a small harbour in the bay near the Swedish village of Skärhamn. The name of that village was stencilled–presumably in the late 1960s–in a very peculiar way on one of the lifebuoys, which was fortunately found by the authors in another harbour in a German city called Rostock. Thus, the brave idea of an anonymous artist crossed the Baltic Sea and docked in a type design experiment setting up a digital type family.
Stencil types are a combination of pragmatism, technology and art. What kind of surface was used for stenciling? What were the templates made of? What is the width to height ratio for letters and why were these proportions chosen? How can we make these features come through with the tools of digital typography and create an internal rhythm with the white gaps that would work as well as the black? The unknown port artist could give us no answers, so we developed the Bering structure by deduction, imagining ourselves in his shoes.
The hidden part of the Bering type has a strict, analytical look, bringing to mind the original purpose of the stencil: it was meant to be a simple tool for drawing letters on various surfaces. The design approach, based on a multi-layered modular grid, has made it possible to reinvent the design of the original letterforms. The geometric structure of the typeface also allows the development of the proportions and weights of the type family in various directions. In this way, Bering comprises normal, narrow and condensed widths, from thin to bold weights, which cover any sort of typographic ideas.
A set in Bering Stencil may seem overbearingly loud and uncompromising but in reality it is more like a mathematically precise interplay of shapes inside a kaleidoscope tube. Due to unconventional white gaps combined with rational proportions, working with Bering is like playing a game or experimenting with an instrument. This type is equally good for setting a readable caption and for creating a page of text resembling abstract graphic art.
I've been studying stencils for quite a while now. Their scope extends far beyond football shirt numbers and underground parking lot navigation. When Eugene first showed me pictures of his findings, including the lettering on a lifebuoy in Skärhamn, we delved into a long discussion about the typography. Eugene then suggested that we collaborate on developing a new typeface. We had to figure out the entire alphabet, each character, and the stencil’s logic. That summer, Eugene and I went camping in the mountains. One night, sitting by the bonfire, we came up with a game: "Draw as many variants of each stencil character as you can." This exercise proved to be incredibly helpful later on.
