SPARK
SI-006, from issue2, 2021.
We Rely Very Much on the Written Word
Leah Maldonado, the Portland-based type designer whose work defies digital uniformity, is reshaping the role of typography in our increasingly homogenized visual landscape. In an industry dominated by corporate aesthetics, Maldonado offers an alternative—a typography that prioritizes culture, complexity, and the power of representation. Her work resists the ubiquitous, sanitized fonts pushed by global corporations and advocates for designs that reflect the messy, rich texture of human identity.
UDÖ Leah, your work stands in stark contrast to the clean, efficient, and universal typefaces we see in many corporate systems today. Why is it important to you to share your type resources?
LM Typography is not just a tool—it’s a form of power. When I share my resources, I’m giving people access to design that doesn’t sanitize their identity. The corporate world wants everything to be neutral, universal, and easily digestible, but I believe type can—and should—reflect our cultural, historical, and personal experiences. Fonts like Google’s Noto Sans promise inclusivity, but they erase the complexities of culture and language. To use Noto Sans, you must have a Google product. Instead of a type education, you’re just given the typeface itself. I don’t believe that is enough. Most likely, if you don’t have a typeface, you have a beautiful calligraphic tradition. Sharing my resources is a way to combat that gap. It’s about resisting the corporate push to reduce everything to a bland, homogeneous version of the world.
UDÖ The keyboard seems central to your critique of modern communication. How has digital technology reshaped writing for you?
LM The keyboard has flattened writing. It’s efficient, sure, but it strips away the nuances of handwriting—the personal rhythm, the emotional connection to the text. It’s a transactional, mechanical approach to communication. By creating and sharing typefaces, I’m trying to reintroduce that depth into the digital space. It’s a way to challenge the sterile nature of writing today, and to invite people to think more about the cultural and personal nuances that typography can express.
UDÖ You’ve critiqued “universal” typefaces, especially those designed by large corporations. How do you view their impact?
LM Universal typefaces, like Noto Sans from Google, are ideological tools designed to erase difference. They claim to represent the world but do so by stripping it of individuality. These fonts turn diverse cultures into a single, corporate-approved aesthetic. The result is a sanitized visual landscape, one that silences diversity. By promoting this type of design, corporations exert control over how we communicate, shaping the narrative to fit their agenda. This is why I’m so passionate about offering alternatives—typefaces that allow for a richer, more diverse representation of the world.
UDÖ Your approach seems to reject the minimalism often associated with corporate design. How do you balance this with the demands of the market
LM Corporate design is obsessed with minimalism because it’s easy, digestible, and scalable. But I find it to be hollow. There’s no depth. Maximalism, on the other hand, embraces complexity. It’s not about excess for excess’s sake, but about layering meaning, culture, and history into design. At Fisk, where I work, we embrace maximalism, even when it challenges client expectations. We believe design should be about more than just selling a product—it should tell a story and express a point of view. This approach is critical in fighting the sterility of corporate design.
UDÖ What’s at stake in today’s design landscape, particularly with the dominance of corporate aesthetics?
LM Many tech companies copy Apple, while Apple is highly inspired by Dieter Rams. Whether they know it or not, they perpetuate the teachings of Beatrice Warde, who wrote the Crystal Goblet and believes that good design is invisible. However, the rise of corporate-driven, “universal” design systems is not just about aesthetics—it’s about control. Large companies dictate how we communicate, what’s acceptable, and what’s ignored. By endorsing neutral fonts, they eliminate individuality and diversity, ultimately forcing us into a singular visual narrative that benefits their interests. If we allow this to continue, we risk losing the richness of cultural, historical, regional, and personal perspectives that make our world interesting. Design should be about power and representation, not simply a tool for mass market control.
UDÖ You often talk about how design influences how we perceive the world. What’s your take on the current design moment?
LM Design has always been political. It shapes how we understand our place in the world. Today, corporate forces are trying to flatten that complexity in the name of efficiency. But that’s dangerous—it erases diversity, and with it, the possibility of cultural representation. Design is supposed to communicate culture, history, and identity. When we reduce it to a neutral, one-size-fits-all solution, we lose what makes design meaningful. Typography, especially, is a vehicle for resistance. It’s an act of reclaiming space, asserting cultural identity, and pushing back against the visual dominance of corporate narratives.
UDÖ Where do you see your work going in the future?
LM I’m always looking for ways to push typography beyond its traditional formats. I want to blend it with performance and lecture, experiment with how we engage with type in physical space. Typography shouldn’t just be something we see on a screen—it should be something we feel, something that speaks to us on a visceral level. I’m interested in creating work that challenges how we think about type and what it can do. Typography is living, breathing, and evolving with the world, and my work will continue to do the same
interview by Utkan Dora Öncül
Spark Interview-006