11 minute read
Signs of life
Signs can make the world of difference to an urban stroll. Designed to point, indicate and control – sometimes they also offer comfort and support.
We are always looking for signs. From judging the clouds to see if the weather is on the change, eyeing the colour of the smoke emanating from the Vatican at conclave, to looking for that road-signed turn-off we’re supposed to be taking, or checking if that’s a disabled toilet over there. We’re looking for messages and reassurance, an acknowledgement that this place has us in mind, that it’s designed to be used by people like you and me, or that it’s safe. Although we bridle at over-zealous instruction signs and hate feeling corralled, having the ‘rules’ set out in our environments is often what makes it work. Funnily enough, those double-yellow lines are there for a reason.
We’ve been keen on signs for a long time, from cave art to traditional travelling cultures which recorded important hunting and subsistence locations through graphics, song and story. Romans invented milestones and from the 16th century parishes had responsibility for signposts in their areas. When cars came along from the 1890s onwards, the first warning and danger signs appeared for steep hills and bends, as vehicles then had much more entertaining braking and clutch capabilities. Before the advent of mass-production of relatively cheap vehicles, road signage was largely a local matter, and the result was a variety of styles and forms sometimes understood clearly only by locals. In the late 1950s, the government commissioned designers Jock Kinneir and Margaret Calvert to sort out the mess and to come up with a coherent style which was later applied across the UK and became the international template that we know today. It even has its own fonts designed by Calvert – ‘Transport’ and ‘Motorway’ – chosen after rival fonts were exhaustively tested by aircraft pilots sitting on a platform in the middle of an airfield, working out what could be seen at what distance and travelling speed. It was Calvert who previously came up with the black type on yellow background approach (for Gatwick Airport), which is still widely recognised as the best, especially by the visually impaired. The mix of lower-case and capital letters enables them to be read faster than just using all capitals. The three shapes employed are codified as triangles for warnings, circles for giving orders and squares for supplying information. All of our suite of signs for pedestrians, horse riders, cyclists and vehicles now complies with the Kinneir-Calvert system.
Of course, not all signs are visual and on a flat surface. We take clues about how we are likely to experience the environment in the form of sound, touch and smell, too. The reassuring bleep of the controlled crossing that helps us navigate a busy road; the warning reversing alarm of the local authority dustcart; the passenger announcements on public transport – they’re all given as a form of sign to help us get around and function in the world safely. Other more subliminal signs are displayed by features of landscape schemes: planting that allows enough visibility for vulnerable groups to feel safer; benches which have proper back and armrest support for disabled or elderly users, inviting a rest; also the use of scented plants for the visually impaired. These, too, are signs which make for a friendly landscape, one that says, ‘Yes, we’ve thought about you and we hope we’ve designed it so you’ll like it enough to visit again.’ Of course, there’s a place for warning signs such as ‘Danger’ and ‘Offenders will be towed’ (also designed for our wellbeing), but it isn’t always about the rules.
How do we learn about all of this signage, overt and otherwise? As a child, I learned how traffic lights worked, what road signs meant and how to behave as a cyclist at the Lordship Recreation Ground in Haringey, North London. Apparently, the world’s first, opening in 1938, to this day it still has some of the same layout. Learning the rules can be made fun and the Model Traffic Area also allowed me to feel that here was something designed for me and so I was welcome there.
Legible London map design
© TfL
Later in life as a landscape architect designing a play area in a local park, I came upon this feeling again when children told me that the first thing they do when they go into a new area or park is to look for the brightly coloured stuff and then they know it’s for them – a sign that it’s the space where they’ve been thought about and so feel welcome. I was thinking how fed up they must be with the same old coloured equipment, but they were interpreting it as a navigation sign. Of course, they also enjoyed the more natural non-coloured play facilities, too.
What are we doing today to help people navigate or to signal a welcome? And how has this changed in recent years? Legible London was set up particularly to help pedestrians find their way around the capital more easily. The project was originally the brainchild of Pat Brown of Central London Partnership around 1999. It was promoted by a number of London boroughs together with Transport for London and has now been taken up across the capital. It was given a boost by the London Olympics. TfL worked with boroughs, businesses and disability groups to create an easy-touse wayfinding system of routes and signage that was also linked to transport hubs and underground station exits. Although this was achieved using a suite of recommended sign styles, information ‘pillars’ and other physical devices, it also tackled street clutter by streamlining multiple signs and getting them out of the way (or easily locatable) for visually impaired pedestrians. Information maps installed on the street use the ‘heads-up’ approach, orientated to the users’ direction of travel rather than the usual north/south. The overarching concept, according to Pat Brown, was that ‘the city should put a sublime arm around you and say welcome’. The pedestrian would not necessarily know why they were being aided. It was a physical manifestation of the city helping people find their destination, allowing them to feel confident to get lost, safe in the knowledge that they would end up in the right place.
Wherever possible, routes guided people to Tube stations from where most other hubs and stations were walkable, encouraging them to explore and access more areas on foot by building confidence in a ‘five-minute walk’ (or 400m) ideal journey model. The wayfaring map system was also designed to help users understand if there will be dropped kerbs and pedestrian crossings along the way –important for those with buggies, disability scooters and wheelchairs. Early consultation demonstrated that fewer strategically placed signs were just as effective as more numerous badly placed ones. Signage with existing provision, such as on bus stops, was adopted, as was positioning some road signage at a lower level where pedestrians could see it far more easily. The aim of the Legible London project is to roll out its consistent and easily recognisable signage across as many areas of London as possible. Other global cities, such as New York (see Case Study below) are also creating more legible and consistent approaches to helping people navigate around.
How important is consistency in approach? Road signage and some pedestrian signs are regulated by the Traffic Signs Regulations and General Directions 2016 which provide sizes, font size, minimum clearances over carriageways, footways, shared routes and bridleways. However, a surprisingly large variety of deviations from the standard approaches to design in this field can be seen. There have been a number of zebra crossings installed which employ a range of different colours. I have also seen a good deal of ‘artistic’ use of independent metal studs meant for use as tactile paving. They are sometimes also employed as a non-slip device: tactile surfaces are intended to be an essential safety feature which advise pedestrians who need them on the location of safe crossings.
Invented in Japan in 1965, the range of warning surfaces also includes corduroy paving, which has rounded bars in the surface to provide warning of hazard, such as top or bottom of stairs, a ramp, level crossing and so forth. Is it acceptable to play with set standards that some sections of the community vitally need to navigate their way in the world? Do we really find it acceptable for a blind person arriving in a new town to have to wonder what the hell is going on with an artful arrangement of random size studs conveying who-knowswhat, instead of what they need and rely on? Is it right that a visually impaired person is bewildered by whether the art on the road is a right of way zebra crossing, or just a bit of fun or a political statement? There is a boundary somewhere between frivolity and the preservation of safety and life.
Getting this wrong can have serious consequences and I do know blind people who have had major accidents, such as falling onto train lines, because the wrong tactile signage had been used. There is a danger that we could just be going back to those local variations in signage that caused all the problems in the past.
And where are we heading now, in this brave new world of technological solutions? Has it allowed us to free ourselves from the mostly visual signage of the past and allowed us to consider other forms of messaging? Why can’t our immediate environment simply tell us what’s going on? With the Talking Lamppost project (a Playable City initiative) everything from street furniture to post boxes and cranes becomes interactive, with pedestrians able to trigger a talking response from inanimate objects which can tell them everything from how they’re feeling (yes, really) to inviting dialogue via text messaging about what local area improvements they’d like to see.
It’s not just major cities in countries like Japan, USA, Canada and the Netherlands which are having all the fun. Talking Lampposts has also been rolled out in Bristol, Nottingham and MediaCity UK in Salford. Users scan a QR code on a given object and this will prompt an interactive ‘conversation’ via text, with answers to questions in real time. This talking signage also provides users with local information and interpretation about the location. Fun though it may be, this is not an exercise in levity, but also has a serious intent to garner opinion and to help with future development.
Legible London, A wayfinding study, ‘London’s Villages’
© Central London Partnership
The talking signage phenomenon is also being taken to a new level and becoming a permanent wayfinding and information system for people with visual impairment. In Newcastle, for example, the RNIB (Royal National Institute for the Blind) REACT (React Audio Triggering System) Talking Sign System has been installed to provide spoken information via speakers attached to lampposts and other features. Users carry an electronic keyfob or use a phone app which triggers the speaker at distances up to 8m away and it provides all kinds of information, from routing and wayfinding to transport times and location details. This has been installed in many transport locations around the UK and the variety of possible uses is clearly enormous and should not necessarily be restricted to owners of smartphones. Other ‘triggering’ mechanisms for information dispensing, such as movement, are clearly possible. Visual responses can assist those with hearing impairment. Providing transport and local information and pointing out the location of landmarks by sound and/or visuals increases inclusiveness, as it greatly assists those with low or no literacy levels, people with learning disabilities and anyone who has their hands too full with young children or others they are caring for to study maps and timetables in tiny print. It could also feel more relevant and friendly if a local accent or dialect is used in the delivery.
It doesn’t have to be an important countrywide signage scheme that makes a landscape more friendly and hospitable. Little project touches, such as the 3D sign made for visually impaired visitors to a walking labyrinth in Seaton, Devon, go a long way to making people feel the environment is caring about them and wanting to meet their needs.
The next time you’re considering how to impart information to users of any space, instead of just showing them, perhaps consider actually ‘speaking’ to people directly about what they need to know, too. Think also about other senses such as touch to impart information and understanding. It’s a sign you care about them.
South Island, New Zealand
© Graham Macey
