The coexistence of typography and architecture within shared spaces reveals a close relationship between these two disciplines in several key aspects. Both typography and architecture embody a particular tension between form and function.
At their core, both are driven by the need to fulfill specific, practical purposes. Yet, they also hold an evocative potential that transcends mere utility. Expression and functionality are inseparable variables—in fact, it is often the perfect adaptation to a specific purpose that gives rise to beauty.
In essence, and each in their own unique way, architecture and typography are complementary approaches to organizing space. One does so in three dimensions, the other, typically, on a flat surface.
And in both, drawing plays a crucial role.
Each typographic character, an architectural piece in itself
Just as an architectural plan defines proportions, heights, and the relationships between elements, a typeface is constructed based on axes, alignments, contrasts, and rhythms.
It’s no coincidence that we used the verb construct a few lines above to describe how a typeface is created.
To construct is to build something from the ground up—with logic, rigor, and structural intent. This is what separates a well-designed typeface from a mere stylistic whim. After all, letters are not designed as isolated objects, but rather as part of a cohesive system.
Design history offers numerous examples of this conceptual connection. It’s not surprising, then, that some architects have ventured into designing their own typefaces as a logical extension of their design thinking. The iconic architect Frank Lloyd Wright created his own typographic systems—closer to lettering or display fonts—to accompany his architectural plans and drawings.
Another notable example is the Swiss architect Le Corbusier, who developed the Modulor in 1946: a measurement system based on the ideal proportions of the human body as defined by Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man and the golden ratio. This universal system was intended to provide harmonious, adaptable, and proportional modular designs. As such, the system lends itself to typographic design and, by extension, to the arrangement of text, the use of grids, and the overall structure of information on the page.
Typography and architecture in the avant-garde movements of the 20th century
The relationship between typography and architecture reaches a particularly significant moment during the early 20th-century avant-garde movements.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the Bauhaus, where architecture, graphic design, and typography formed part of a unified visual and conceptual ecosystem. Herbert Bayer, one of the movement’s leading figures, designed the typeface Universal in 1925. It featured no capital letters and championed an economy of form aligned with the school’s functionalist principles.
Universal was conceived as a structure built from essential geometric elements, echoing the Bauhaus approach to architecture in its purely rationalist design. The absence of capital letters reflected an egalitarian and functional vision.
A similar approach is found in Russian Constructivism. Designers like El Lissitzky and Aleksandr Rodchenko treated typography as a constructive, almost architectural tool. In their compositions, letters became autonomous visual objects—pure forms arranged in space with the same structural rigor as a building.
This idea of maximizing the tension between form and function resonated with later movements, such as Swiss Design. The concept of the “architecture of text” took center stage. In the influential Swiss typographic style, the grid became a scientific tool for organizing visual information with absolute clarity.
Helvetica, arguably one of the most iconic typefaces of the 20th century, emerged from this context. Its success—its beauty—doesn’t lie in its supposed neutrality, as is often claimed, but in its architectural precision. Every line has meaning in relation to the whole, creating a sense of astonishing harmony where the boundary between form and function becomes indistinguishable.
The relationship between architecture and typography goes far beyond a superficial formal resemblance. It’s a deep affinity based on shared principles: proportion, structure, and the productive tension between utility and form, between technical rigor and expressive potential. A letter, like a building, is both shelter and symbol. And like a building, it structures space and stirs emotion.
Case Study: Salto
A contemporary example of the relationship between architecture and typography is the new visual identity we developed for the architecture studio Salto, structured around a dual typographic system. The Salto Sans and Salto Serif families are a typographic representation of the studio’s design philosophy and ethos.
The former, geometric and unembellished, conveys rationality, structure, and timelessness. The latter, emotional and humanist, adds a layer of expressiveness that reflects the studio’s creative sensibility. Together, they coexist as strategy and intuition do in architectural practice.
The uppercase “S”, conceived as a visual emblem, encapsulates this idea. Beyond its linguistic function, it acts as a signature element that anchors the studio’s visual narrative and reinforces its unique identity.
In this case, typography—like architecture—becomes the project’s language. The letter becomes a formal manifestation of a way of thinking about space, of relating to materials, and of inhabiting the visual world. Salto’s architectural vision shapes a way of seeing, and the typographic system we designed makes that vision visible.
The identity is grounded in a central idea: the coexistence of two seemingly opposite but deeply complementary dimensions. On one hand, strategy, planning, and design logic; on the other, intuition, creativity, and the emotional power of gesture. This duality—reflected in the personalities of the studio’s founders—is translated into a typographic system that allows for formal contrast without losing coherence. Salto Sans is solid, rational, and structured. Salto Serif introduces nuance, texture, and warmth. Both share the same design foundation, enabling their fluid coexistence across various mediums.
This versatility has been key to the success of the identity: from stationery to digital presentations, from posters to signage, the system functions as a visual architecture that embodies and expresses the studio’s philosophy. The typographic development also includes specific details—such as arrows, numerals, and symbols—that enhance the brand’s personality and enable a rich, nuanced application. Every element has been crafted with the same attention to detail as an architectural drawing.
In short, the Salto case study exemplifies how typography rightfully stands as a tool for conceptual synthesis.
Ana Moliz
Art Director. Buenaventura.
