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60 ptDroulers Regular
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60 ptDroulers Italic
Droulers
Published in 2017
80 €
About Droulers
2 styles
Designed by Bureau Brut in 2016
Published in 2017
Droulers was designed for a book spanning the life and work of the dancer and choreographer Pierre Droulers. The typeface draws upon printed matter found in Droulers’ personal archive and in particular some typewritten notes. Exploring both the specific rythm and shapes of typewriter alphabets, the design is inspired by the distortions and accidents generated by this technology: letters obstructed by ink, closing counterforms, and so on. Droulers’ true strength appears in text setting at small sizes, but at a larger scale each letter gets its primitive graphic power back.
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🡦 Regular
🡦 Italic
🡦 Regular
🡦 Italic
🡦 Regular + Italic
A cry of fury broke from everyone! At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o’clock in the morning. The captain then decided to take more direct means. “Ah!” said he, “that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln. Very well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets. Send your men to the forecastle, sir.” The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But the shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off. “Another, more to the right,” cried the commander, “and five dollars to whoever An old gunner with a grey beard—that I can see now—with steady eye and grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud report was heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew. The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
🡦 Italic + Regular
A cry of fury broke from everyone! At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o’clock in the morning. The captain then decided to take more direct means. “Ah!” said he, “that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln. Very well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets. Send your men to the forecastle, sir.” The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round. But the shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half a mile off. “Another, more to the right,” cried the commander, “and five dollars to whoever An old gunner with a grey beard—that I can see now—with steady eye and grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim. A loud report was heard, with which were mingled the cheers of the crew. The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off the rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
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