Isabel Lea is a creative director, graphic designer, founder of Studio Atypical and researcher in residence at the Future Observatory. Her project Eroded Expressions can be seen at the Design Museum until September 24th 2023.

As one of four design researchers in residence, this year’s group explored the theme of Islands, emblematic of a shift from an ‘island mentality’ towards ‘archipelagic thinking’. Focused on creating networks of interdependence, this year’s researchers in residence argue for:

• public luxury

• multi-species flourishing

• invigorated ecological knowledge

• the inseparability of design from planetary resources

For some context, the Research Residency program at the Future Observatory supports the broader strategy to Design the Green Transition in the UK. It is part of the Design Museum’s partnership with the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) supporting the UK’s response to the climate crisis.

In our conversation, Isabel shares why, in the context of the wider climate emergency, she believes the adoption of specific communication tools such as vocabulary and typography are crucial, with her work centred on:

• bringing back forgotten climate knowledge, untranslatable terms and expressions for land and weather

• considering the preservation of ancient language and its role in intelligent climate action today, and in the future

GW: I’m dying to discuss your residency with the Design Museum but first, could you tell us more about your own practice? As the founder of Studio Atypical.

IL: I co-founded my studio with my business partner back in 2017 in Leeds. We started the studio to make the kind of work we wanted to see in the world and do something different from more traditional advertising and design, which seemed a little out of touch and missing the mark with a younger demographic. Since then, we’ve worked with a real range of clients, from start-ups with interesting new products right up to big brands like Adobe and Panasonic, helping them connect with younger audiences and make more culturally led content. We’ve grown to a small team based out of London now, and are starting to work more with cultural clients which is really exciting and the direction we want to be heading in.

GW: Now onto your residency, could you tell us about your specific focus within the theme of 2023 which was Islands. For some context, each resident was tasked to develop projects that use the island as a lens to think through varying climate challenges.

So the project I pitched was named ‘Eroded Expressions’. Here I was interested in how the UK is part of not just an environmental ecosystem, but also a node in an interconnected social and linguistic ecosystem. My interpretation of the ‘island’ theme explores language-specific climate knowledge from Celtic languages which are being eroded in the UK. My previous research has built on the idea that the languages we speak don’t constrain our view of the world, but the words which are unique to a language often reveal important concepts for particular cultures.

Therefore, this project aims to uncover and visualise some of these from languages which are endangered in the British isles. Particularly in this case, in relation to environmental knowledge. I then designed a new typeface in order to visualise these

GW: What about your process in creating a glossary of untranslatable nature words from Celtic languages which span from Cornwall to Scotland. This project then uses design to share these words and ‘rewild’ our language.

IL: My project started with deeper research on the connection between linguistics and the environment, which allowed me to form a base hypothesis - that by being more attentive to the words we use to discuss climate and environmental issues, we become more attentive to the issues themselves. I grew up on the south west coast, and so was already familiar with the idea that Cornish has many environmental words we don’t have in English.

I was curious if this was the same for other branches of the Celtic language family. Therefore, the main fieldwork of my project involved interviews with experts in language, culture and environmental connection, from the Penwith coast in Cornwall to the isles of Skye about language and environment. These happened over calls and in person during fieldwork trips. It was important for me to interview native speakers of these languages to understand the deep cultural implications of these words, so that my definitions didn’t lose context.

I saw my role here as a design facilitator, a translator of knowledge, rather than a creator of this knowledge, so I wanted to make sure the voices of the people in these communities were foregrounded.

After putting together a master glossary of all the definitions I had collected, I began to synthesis these, identifying key themes that traversed the different languages. The three most interesting ones here were connection to land, reading and respecting the weather and reading and repairing the landscape. In order to then showcase these, I needed to give then a visual form, which is where my typeface comes in.

GW: How does facing Climate change and creating a green transition connect with Languages?

IL: Language writer Rob McFarlane says this better than me. He argues that “Language deficit leads to attention deficit. As we deplete our ability to denote and figure particular aspects of our places, so our competence for understanding and imagining possible relationships with non-human nature is correspondingly depleted.”

I completely concur with this. I think in the opposite way, when we have names for particular phenomenon we didn’t know before, we are more attuned to them, and when we more accurately describe and articulate aspects of the environment that is the first step in being able to more sensitively live in tune with our environment and think more imaginatively about the future of our planet. To this end, not all knowledge we need for the climate emergency is new. Some has been with us this whole time, but not foregrounded.

I see my job as a designer researcher to reveal and foreground these concepts and help visualise them in a way which is visually engaging and memorable for the general public. To create visuals which act as an entry point to more deeper engagement with these languages and with the environment.

GW: Could you tell us more about Typography as a Design Tool for Social and Environmental Challenges?

IL: Typography is often forgotten in design research, yet its the very interface of our language. The choice of font a designer uses can be used to persuade, inform or even confuse. The kind of shape of lettering we choose can make something feel more friendly, more luxury… the form of the words we see everyday influence us, so its time we used it as a tool to spread the right messages.

Further than this, the design of letterforms themselves is worth interrogating. When we investigate the ‘standard’ for typefaces, it often comes from a western latin baseline. My project asks, what if it started from a more Celtic orthography? My developing a new modern Celtic-style typeface, I’m able to more accurately and appropriately display these words, with their true character set for example the ‘dd’ or ‘ch’ characters in welsh.

GW: You talk about rewilding our language ‘To ‘rewild’ our language, we need design and art to help people engage with them and make them understandable in new contexts’. How can design rewild our language?

IL: Design is a tool we can use to nudge public consciousness. The role of design here is twofold. Firstly the languages (and knowledges) I’ve focused on have historically been marginalised, so with a design platform to showcase important climate knowledges, its my role to craft an interesting, understandable exhibit that highlights the right voices. In a way this is part of the islands theme, to bring knowledge from the coastal fringes of the British isles and centre it in climate discourse, and look at the wider patterns and connection points.

The second part is that most linguistic knowledge is trapped in books, by making it the subject of a design exhibition, and by creating a typeface which can accurately record and display the words, we make it easier for people to understand and engage with them.

My hope is people go away from the show with a few more words and and an understanding that the English language should not always be the default for words to talk about climate.

GW: You state: “The words a language privileges teach us about their priorities and lifestyle. To have a better relationship with nature we need better language to describe and imagine better relationships nature. By spreading these words, we increase our day-to-day connection with and appreciation for the environment.”

IL: Yes, so there are such amazing concepts out there. In fact Almost all of the Celtic languages have words which convey a sense of belonging to a particular home-place and the way in which the environment is an intrinsic part of that. Dùthchas in Gàidhlig (Scots Gaelic), Dúchas in Gaeilge (Irish), and Cynefin in Cymraeg (Welsh) all refer to a deep connection to a specific natural or rural environment, as well as the cultural heritage that is associated with the past and an envisaged future of the place.

These concepts emphasise the importance of having a sense of rootedness and familiarity with one's surroundings, as well as the value of preserving traditional ways of living with the environment and natural resources.

All Celtic languages contain a version of this concept, something lacking in English and which arguably disconnects us from the land where we are born. Beyond these concepts, the everyday vocabulary is super interesting, For example, in Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic), there are words like Beinn (1) for a mountain or high peak, Sgùrr (2) for a rocky peak or summit, Stob (3) for a pointed or conical peak, Aonach (4) for a ridge or spur between two peaks or mountains, and Meall (5) for a rounded hill or mountain.

These words help to give a more precise and nuanced understanding of the natural features of the environment. Similarly, in Kernewek (Cornish), there are words like Gwetnak (6) for a tree-grown place, Bounder (7) for the road leading home to pasture, Clidga (8) for a muddy area around a gateway, and Gew or Kew (9) for the best field on the farm.

In addition to having specific words for identifying and describing the landscape, many Celtic languages also have specific vocabulary related to the stewardship and care of the land. These words reflect the intimate relationship between the people and the landscape, and the importance of maintaining and preserving it. For example, the Kernewek (Cornish) word Adgy (10) refers to a gap in a hedge, while Fradge (11) means to mend or repair the said gap in a hedge. These words allow for quick communication of specific problems and solutions when working in the landscape.

GW: When you and I first met, it was to talk about Speculative Design. You were about to start on your journey as at the Future Observatory, I’m curious to know how things have landed since? 

IL: Speculative design is something I’m still very much interested in, given I have a practical background in design and then a theoretical one in social science, it seemed a really interesting intersection of my interests.

As a graphic designer, what I find really interesting is that graphic design lacks the long academic and theoretical tradition which disciplines like architecture have, therefore its often architectural or product design models which form the base of speculative thinking.

I’m becoming increasingly interested in what speculative graphic design looks like, or, in the case of my speciality - typography - what could speculative typography look like?

I’ve previously done some speculative typography experiments, for example looking at what would happen if letters could represent sound values, so this feels like a really interesting area for research, which I am starting to scratch the surface with the future observatory at the design museum. 

GW: What is your biggest takeaway from this residency so far? This is a big question, but how do you feel you have changed? Or what has been your biggest learning so far which you could pass on to others?

IL: My biggest learning has been to really interrogate your position as a design researcher before embarking on any project.

This is something I learned during my sociology masters and has been even more re-inforced in this project. There are so many areas where design researchers can collaborate with other disciplines and areas or take a role as a facilitator and visualiser of knowledge - in my case this is usually for endangered languages - and really use their skillset for good.

GW: My final question is on the connection languages and harmonious futures for the people and planet. Is this where we land? How can we be more conscious about our use of language as designers, creatives, foresight professionals?

IL: In the context of a wider climate emergency, I believe the adoption of vocabulary which is more specific, more relevant and more culturally specific is crucial. It is also important to move away from English as the default and give a seat at the table to historic languages which are more connected to land.

By bringing back these lost words, giving them a modern way to be written and paying attention to them and what they convey, we can gain a greater awareness of and appreciation for both the natural world, the relationship between language and the environment and the lifestyles of the speakers of these rural languages.

As we improve our ability to perceive, understand and communicate about our environment, so we open our minds to better responses to changing climates. Whether it’s noting specific things like hearing Clagarnach (the sound of rain on the roof in Gaeilge (Irish) or identifying a Sgùrr (a rocky peak or summit in Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic), the words we use to describe our environment now, and in the future. Secondly, it's not just the words we use, but how we present them and write them that matter. The design tools we use to frame language are important, and we should consider what we foreground and why.

Post interview conclusion by GW

Through my conversation with Isabel Lea, I realised I had never considered improving my understanding of the environment and nature through language, and how the loss of ancient languages could impact our chances of creating better futures.

In the weeks since I have attended several conferences, graduate shows and exhibitions, and it is clear many designers are choosing to celebrate the past to weave a better future, from looms to rural living to preserving forgotten languages.

We are remapping what the future looks like with an elastic effect response to a society at times overly focused on digital technologies. We seem to reconnect with our origins, find our way back home, realising the solutions were always there but we failed to see them.

Quoting Futurist Kevin Kelly, founding editor of WIRED:

The best futurists I know are really keen historians and study the past to see the future.

Glossary of terms

1. Beinn: Refers to a mountain or high peak, often used in place names such as Ben Nevis or Ben Macdui. | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)

2. Sgùrr: Refers to a rocky peak or summit, often associated with the Scottish Highlands. | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)

3. Stob: Refers to a pointed or conical peak, typically found in mountainous areas. | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)

4. Aonach: Refers to a ridge or spur between two peaks or mountains. | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)

5. Meall: Refers to a rounded hill or mountain, often used in place names in Scotland. | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic)

6. Gwetnak: A treegrown place | Cornish (Kernewek)

7. Bounder: The road leading home to pasture | Cornish (Kernewek)

8. Clidga: The muddy area around a gateway | Cornish (Kernewek)

9. Gew/Kew: The best field on the farm | Cornish (Kernewek)

10. Adgy: A gap in a hedge | Cornish (Kernewek)

11. Fradge: To mend or repair a gap in a hedge | Cornish (Kernewek)

See Islands and Isabel Lea’s Eroded Expressions at the Design Museum until September 24th 2023. Connect with Isabel here.

By Geraldine Wharry

Assistance Schona Nagi

All photos credited to Isabel Lea