Art director Stas Zhitsky on the sign as a universal message.

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I am a designer, artist, art director, copywriter and columnist, as well as a teacher at the School Design from the National Research University Higher School of Economics. During my career, I have received over 30 awards and prizes in the field of design, including such well-known ones as Good Design and RedDot. In addition, I was a jury member at the Cannes Lions, Eurobest and AD Stars festivals.

He is the author of the book "Parable Therapy, or the Book of Meanings about Marketing", written in collaboration with Sergei Kuzhavsky. He is a regular contributor to Snob magazine and has also published in a specialized publication on graphic design [kAk), as well as in such magazines as Creative Director and Vedomosti.

In the center of the village there was a main street, trampled by peasant sleighs. It attracted attention with a multitude of signs: here you could see boots, a sparkling golden pretzel, bright red flags and an image of a young man with impudent, pig-like eyes and a strange hairstyle. All this indicated that behind the glass doors was the local barber, Basil, who offered shaving services for a nominal fee of thirty kopecks at any time except on holidays, of which there were plenty in our country.

"Morphine" is a novel by Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. In this text, the author explores the complex and contradictory aspects of human nature and addiction. Through the prism of the characters' personal experiences, Bulgakov touches on the themes of fear, pain, and medications, as well as their impact on the psyche. In this story, the reader encounters the internal conflicts of the characters as they grapple with the dark sides of their lives and strive to find a way out of despair. Ultimately, "Morphine" becomes not only a reflection of the author's personal experiences but also a profound reflection on the nature of addiction and its consequences.

In 1962, during excavations at the Neolithic settlement of Jiahu in China, archaeologists discovered the oldest logos known to mankind. These symbols were carved on turtle shells. Yes, you heard right, logos...

Nevertheless, be they hieroglyphs, pictograms, symbols, or signs, the essence remains the same.

A complete and unique image of an object, action, or concept, as well as their complex combinations, differs significantly from the system known as an "alphabet." Each individual letter in this alphabet has no independent meaning; it represents only a sound, a specific note, and functions as an element with a limited role.

Six thousand years BC, some anonymous creators were already using fragments of dead turtles to succinctly convey meanings. Although the exact content of these meanings remains unknown, it can be assumed that their contemporaries were able to understand them. Interestingly, this method of communication, eight thousand years later, continued to exist, preserving its essence over many years, manifesting itself in various forms.

As for hypostases, the pictograms originally depicted on shells found their way onto other media. Their literal meaning gradually transformed into a more abstract symbolism, and now the meanings of these signs are no longer so easily perceived visually. However, most Chinese characters still function as signs: each symbol corresponds to a specific word. For example, the concept of "mouth" was visualized with a smiley face with a horizontal line, which eventually became the character 口 (kou). Another character featured an upward curve with dots below it, representing rain falling from a cloud. Over time, this rain symbol underwent modifications and evolved into a more complex version: 雨. How exactly this happened is not worth specifying, but the essence of the logo remained unchanged. Looking at later Egyptian hieroglyphs, it is safe to say that the ibis cannot be confused with Anubis. In addition, the images of cats, although executed in a symbolic manner, still possess anatomical accuracy.

Later, when humanity began to need an alphabet to convey the most subtle nuances, logos that arose naturally still Remained relevant, especially in cases where brevity and expressiveness were required. This can be observed, for example, in religious symbolism: the Indian swastika, which is a multicultural symbol, the Slavic Kolovrat, the Star of David and the menorah in Judaism, the cross and fish in Christianity, the Dharmachakra in Buddhism, the yin-yang symbol in Taoism, "Om" in Hinduism, the Muslim crescent with a star, and also the pentagram used by Satanists.

And what about coats of arms? State, family, Masonic, guild—there are many. Guild coats of arms are especially interesting, because in the European Middle Ages, every artisan was part of a guild. It could be anything from a miner to a detective (yes, such professions existed in those days), from craftsmen creating brushes for artists to those who made violins and cellos for musicians.

As for signage, it was strictly regulated, a term now referred to as an urban design code. Every commercial establishment had its own unique logo: shoemakers, bakers, blacksmiths, barbers, saddlers, milkmen, and butchers all had their own symbols. Logos were often literal: for example, a shoemaker's would depict a boot, and a baker's a pretzel. However, more metaphorical images were also common. For example, taverns and inns used a sun-shaped sign, symbolizing an invitation to enter and warm up. These copper suns were polished to a high shine, allowing them to glow both during the day, reflecting the sun's rays, and at night in the moonlight—a kind of effective advertising. Furthermore, there was a practical aspect: in the conditions of widespread illiteracy in the Middle Ages, it was pointless to spell out your brand name in words, since only one in ten people could read it. But images of a boot or a pretzel were understandable to everyone.

Over time, these coats of arms and signs evolved into original visual images, which began to be used in advertising campaigns for various companies and organizations. However, the process of logotization of society did not stop there: a desire arose to make the form of communication itself universal and symbolic.

One of the first initiatives in this area was undertaken by the Estonian scientist Jakob Linzbach. In 1921, he published a work entitled "Transcendent algebra: Ideografie matematical. Experiment de un lingue philosophic." In this work, Linzbach presented the pictographic language he created, while using another artificial language to explain it—Occidental, which was developed by his compatriot Edgar de Waal. The construction of Linzbach's language was based on simple symbols and mathematical expressions. For example, to denote "smoking," he used a combination of a person and a pipe, while "conversation" was represented as a mouth multiplied by an ear, and "silence" as (- a mouth) multiplied by an ear.

There was also a language system called "Blissymbolics," developed over the course of a lifetime by the engineer and scientist Carl Bliss (1897–1985). This system included 120 basic symbols that, through various additions and combinations, could create meaningful combinations. For example, a heart symbol with an upward arrow denoted the state of being “cheerful.”

Both languages ​​were distinguished by their purely visual nature, which meant that they could be perceived and understood by speakers of different languages, while verbalization was left to the discretion of each individual. Doesn't this resemble the logoization of communication?

Yes, these experiments may have been unsuccessful, but sign languages ​​continue to exist and develop!

We head to the pharmacy with a green cross to get medicine. Without the need for words, we easily recognize road signs. The letters WC are not just symbols for us, and many don't even know what they mean; instead, we look for doors with images of a male or female figure. At airports, we navigate by the silhouettes of planes taking off or landing, and on our smartphones, we tap on icons, ignoring the captions underneath.

Ah, yes, the Olympics! They are the true embodiment of multilingualism and a real extravaganza of hieroglyphs! The other day, I delved into researching the history of the development of pictograms for the 1980 Soviet Olympics. Surprisingly, in addition to creating pictograms for all sports disciplines, the designers also developed 239 universal symbols that were understandable to foreigners - they denoted various services, signs and much more.

They depicted a symbol in the form of a pretzel.

We draw your attention to the materials published in previous issues:

• We analyze New Year's symbols: New Year is a brand that has not only its mascots, but also strategies for promotion.
• Implementing your idea: can neural networks understand design?
• Herbarium without a kangaroo: how many meanings can a logo contain?
• Scare the nymph: how does color psychology function and is it really effective?
• Should Shura think about creating a logo: what is its possible cost and why is it important not to disclose the price?
• Stanislav, whom we know as a borrowed specialist, became the hero of an interesting stories from practice. This case clearly demonstrates why you shouldn't blindly rely on other people's portfolios.
• The right to use green: should you register your brand color scheme and what makes a logo truly stand out?