stories behind signatures

I don't very often write about my day job on this blog - it's a sort of unwritten rule. But what are rules for, if not to be broken?

I've just finished work on the first monograph of woven textile artist, Rezia Wahid. The book's at the printers at the moment, but this is how the cover will look:

One of the photographs I'd seen in preparing for the book was of Rezia's sketch book:

I wanted to try and capture, in print, some of that ethereal quality that is so typical of Rezia's work. So I thought I'd pick up the idea (from the sketchbook) of simply using her signature as a title.

So I explained this to Rezia and asked if she could send me a copy of her signature for scanning, and she replied "I am sooo excited about the signature idea."

"I must share the story behind this signature with you!
My father has a beautiful and elegant signature with his initial A and Wahid...
I remember during my early teens my father tried his utmost to have me sign like a lady with an elegant signature but I couldn't and perhaps wouldn't. I just had to write my full name in the way I just naturally happen to develop.... so here it is - my signature - to this day my sister, who is a financial advisor, keeps a watch whenever I sign important documents - as it tends to always go beyond the space allocated for signatures! I cannot wait to tell them your suggestion."

That's a really lovely story. And, in fact, I have a similar tale to tell.

My own signature (although not nearly as elegant as Rezia's) is in all capitals, which is somewhat unusual. It came about when I was at art school. You see, I was taught handwriting in the old-fashioned way (steel-nibbed pen and a bottle of ink) when I first started school. But I'm left handed, so I always made a terrible mess - and was always bottom of the hand-writing class. But over my school years I developed a very awkward way of writing conventionally, but in a way that my hand didn't smudge what I'd just written - all very difficult. But when I got to art school I realised that I no longer had to do what I was told to do, and that I had the power to determine how I wrote. And so that's what I did - and over six months or so, I totally reinvented my hand writing (together with my signature).

I do remember that the bank wasn't very happy though.

Comments

[Andrew Kingham]

Do you always have that little underline? Quite modest. Or are you unconsciously emphasising the start of *designer*?

[Pete]

Since secondary school I've always written in capitals, It just seemed more natural - a lot easier to read than my normal handwriting too. Unfortunately I was marked down in my first marketing exam at uni for writing in capitals, which I assumed would be easier for the lecturers to read.

After three years of forcing myself to write normally, then slipping back into my old ways as soon as I left university, I seem to have developed a kind of joined up capitals way of writing. Its probably just as well that I only seem to write things down for my own benefit.

[Andrew Kingham]

Forgot to say - the signature weaves in beautifully with the title and the image.

[davidthedesigner]

Obviously that's not the signature I use when signing cheques. But my real one also has the little underline - I don't know why.

[Richard]

David, I think you should change your surname to Thedesigner by Deed Pole.

[Andrew Kingham]

Could you change it to THEDESIGNER?

[davidthedesigner]

But what if I ever wanted a career change - say become an estate agent, for instance? Then I'd have to call myself rickytherealtor.