Language can be what unites and what divides us. On a local level, our words have been a handy tool in getting around, estimating safety and accommodating strangeness in the near surroundings. In a globalised world, the many languages of humankind can make things occasionally complicated. 

In China, bilingual design has always been a reflection of the geopolitical balances of power and tastes: in 1841 Hong Kong became a British territory and Shanghai in 1845 got a foreign enclave, that changed both local politics and streetscapes:  the traditional calligraphers who made the street signs had to start taking bilingual design into consideration. In the decades that followed, the interaction between east and west increased at the turn of the 20th century and the rise of artistic movements of Art Nouveau and Bauhaus inspired bilingual typography. The languages were combined, but the reading directions remained traditional: a Chinese person would read a bilingual sign right to left, and an English speaking person would read it left to right.

In the 1950s, this started to change: as consumerism flourished and western brands entered the Asian market, the demand for bilingual trademarks arose in Hong Kong and Shanghai. Chinese was adapted to English: the reading direction of both became from left to right. As China opened up, in the 80s, English actually gained a dominant place in bilingual designs, as Deng Xiaoping aimed to make the people aware of better times ahead – times in which one could strive for the luxury that imported goods conveyed.

With the 1980s 40 years behind us, bilingual design has continued to develop. Bilingual design in China once aimed at opening the door to the west, rather than accommodating the non-Chinese speakers. Up to not too long ago English was also idealised as it was considered key to a more balanced and calm design, given that Chinese characters can appear quite dense.  

thonik believes good bilingual design is exactly that: bilingual. The two languages, in this case Chinese and English, are to be each other's equals. The layout is there to balance out the two.

Power Station of Art, Shanghai: a balance of two languages

The PSA logo consists of the main lines found in the museum building. Chinese graphic designer Shen Haopeng (Hope Sun) took the old chimney of the electricity station that towers over the main structure below, and thus composed the logo of five bars of different lengths, with which the same structure can be built.

Thonik developed this logo further by having two languages flanking both sides of the chimney. The English reads ‘Power Station of Art’ referring to the building in which the museum houses. The Chinese explains the current function of the building: The Shanghai Contemporary Art Museum. The character for ‘contemporary’ is featured prominently and Shen Haopeng designed the logo to have a similar shape. Both languages are of equal size alongside the chimney. As to say: in this institute, both international and Chinese influences and ideas are equally important. 

M+ Museum Harmonious book design

M+ is a global museum of contemporary visual culture in Hong Kong. Its communication and publication is meant for a multilingual and global audience. 

Here, the pages breathe calm by subtle tweaks to the spacing and weight of letters and characters: as Chinese characters are more complex than the latin alphabet, they appear heavier on the page when placed next to latin script. By bringing the two closer together in terms of weight, kerning and spacing, the pages are balanced out. 

Beyond that this book series balances out the past and the present: by combining the vertical Chinese headings in Chinese, which is still typical for Hong Kong writing, with horizontal Chinese body copy – a combination that also echoes the architecture of M+, with the vertical, narrow office building, and the horizontal architecture of the exhibition spaces.

Almaty Museum of Arts: three languages as a form of emancipation

The Almaty Museum of Arts is a contemporary art museum on a peculiar set of crossroads: in a country that was a foundational part of the Soviet Union (USSR) until 1991, but is now moving away from its USSR heritage, the museum aims to share the region’s broad, but undiscovered contemporary art scene with Kazakh’s and the world. 

In designing the museum’s identity, we thus aimed to appeal to Russian speaking Kazakhs, Kazakh speaking Kazakhs, and an English speaking international audience. This resulted in a trilingual identity that is still awaiting its next big change: Kazakhstan is transitioning its official language script from Cyrillic to a Latin-based alphabet, with the process now scheduled for completion by 2031. Hence, the identity will still undergo some developments over time.

Strelka Institute by Anna Kulachëk: a ping pong between languages

Strelka Institute in Moscow lives in the vacuum between two worlds: the Russian direct surroundings of the institute and its role in the international dialogue on architecture and design. Many of the projects and events that require communication take place in Moscow, but the audience of the education programmes is global. For that reason, designer Anna Kulachek decided to let Strelka’s communication ping pong between Cyrillic and Latin writing. The languages alter on the basis of the asset and its audience. This allows for a flexible identity that always manages to speak to the target group, whatever language they speak. 

Conclusion

It may be obvious that designing in multiple languages requires more than just an eye for design; it also requires an understanding of what is written and of the cultural context in which languages evolve. After all, our languages reflect the way we see the world. Bilingual design thus requires not only two languages, but also an open mind.