«The letter bears no intrinsic relation to the sound it refers to,» says one of them.

«In other words,» he adds, «there is nothing that makes the sound A resemble the letter A, in any way.» … «The letter is abstract form.»

The Jewish kabbalists insisted that not only the words, but also the very letters of the Holy Scriptures were fragments of an infinite network of potential interpretations. Every textual unit was precious, containing, as they liked to put it, the Breath of Life, and every letter was numbered, with the various textual fragments adding up to ever new sums and subtotals cross-referring to one another in an unbounded melange of meaning. Here, much as the letter itself was God-given, its reading and significance was open.

«Arguably the opposite of what is happening today.» says the designer who has spoken last. «People can sense that form is a historical construct, but it remains a mere support, a crutch, a prosthesis for content. And content,» he adds, «content is secured and guarded by sementic dogma. By hermeneutic dogma.» He looks down, scrutinizing his snow-white Lacoste running shoes. He sighs. «By pop semantics and hermeneutic faith,» he says, sadly shaking his head.

Tirdad Zolghadr writes of his discussion with two graphic designers in the Swiss design collection, Super: Welcome to Graphic Wonderland.