Tobias Jacobsen breaks the rules of Gothic typefaces for Krater.Objects' identity

From the start, our conversations revolved around what we called "constructed nature," which sparked a lot of ideas for the visual concept. Krater also has a rather unconventional approach to furniture design, and I liked the idea of challenging the ordinary clichés within the field. We chose to pursue something that pushed against the usual clean-lined modernist tendencies and trends — we wanted a brand that looked and felt like the objects themselves.

The objects are digitally rendered in 3D, which means the body is first built from cornered polygons — something most of us recognise from early PlayStation 1 graphics. I wanted to use that naive expression both as a visual constraint and as a representation of Krater's three-dimensional side. On the other end of the spectrum sits the second constraint: ornamental letterforms known for organic curves and floral expression. Krater's objects have an asymmetric, biomorphic, sculptural quality that draws parallels to the Gothic period and the Jugend style, which made it natural to draw letterforms from those movements. Organic letterforms built from polygons. Constructed nature.

Because of the constraint of creating an ornamented logotype, I spent a lot of time studying Gothic letterforms combined with the calligraphic, ornamented type usually seen in the Jugend style, while keeping legibility in mind. The process was about finding a balance between ornamentation and legibility, since that's the most vital part of creating a custom logotype. I broke some of the rules of Gothic typefaces and cherry-picked letterforms from different periods to adjust each individual letter into something legible. The hard-pointed curvature gave the logotype a raw, tactile expression — unusual, but aligned with the visuals of the objects. The system varies on a scale from the fully ornamented logotype to a secondary maker's mark and a neutral wordmark, so the amount of ornamentation can adjust across formats and compositions. It was important that the system was scalable across dimensions, tone of voice and media.

Knowing that Krater's designs exist as 3D renderings opened up the opportunity to use that to our advantage. It made it possible to place the objects inside unlimited environments and let visitors to the website inspect them in full rotation. The three-dimensional objects became a natural element of the visual identity.

Drawing letterforms from only hard points requires solid decisions and clear rules on the number of anchor points and the amount of contrast. Too few anchor points make the letterforms look robotic and square, while too many just look like a bad vector trace. The discipline lay in finding the right balance — enough anchor points to control the contrast between horizontal and vertical lines, especially in curved forms. It's a completely different way of designing type, but a rewarding one once it works.

What I like most about the Krater project is that it feels like a break from what can sometimes seem like a modernist vacuum in furniture design. Krater is a rebellious newcomer in a landscape of simplicity and clean lines, both in the visual identity and the objects themselves. I was schooled in the Scandinavian approach to modernism and the use of neo-grotesque typefaces, but there's satisfaction in challenging those rules on a project like this.

Lea Pyndt works both in architecture and art, and our ongoing collaboration is built on a mutual understanding of each other's crafts. Whether she's working on large-scale architecture or sculptural ceramics, I always have a clear sense of how to transform her work into graphic design. A physical product, compared to architecture or a service business, allows for more freedom in style. Architecture is strictly a communication between professionals, which means certain rules apply. Krater.Objects, on the other hand, communicates a feeling and a vibe, so the spectrum of visual variation is broader and more experimental.