Daniël van der Winden • All posts

Fred Dibnah: Steeplejack

2026-11-03T17:00:00Z

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Qwxe5T2_uA&ref=daniel.pizza

Good old Fred. Well worth fifty minutes of your time.

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Inside the Nakashima Workshop

2026-10-27T17:00:00Z

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRkUiNpKwyM&ref=daniel.pizza

Architectural Digest visited the workshop and private wood collection of George Nakashima Woodworkers. In its barns, they’ve stored types of wood that are near-impossible to source today: East Indian rosewood, Persian walnut, and many more.

Beautiful to see the care and respect they have for the trees they fell and craft into furniture or art pieces.

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Hono’s flipbook labels for Temper

2026-10-27T13:00:00Z

Link: https://www.itsnicethat.com/articles/studio-hono-temper-branding-project-261026?ref=daniel.pizza

Temper sparkling pear cider labels flipping by in sequence, the ball moving across a purple-and-green court as the rally plays out.

Via It’s Nice That

I’ve written about Temper before; they’re a sports brand for tennis objects and experiences, and their visual language stood out to me from the start. Strong typography, eye-catching photography. It’s Nice That featured their one-off collaboration with Hono, who designed flipbook-like labels for their cider that represent a rally between Federer and Nadal at Wimbledon in 2008 (are you still with me?).

Each of the 60 hand-numbered bottles carries one frame of the final four seconds, and the ball is punched out of the label. They were printed by a Risograph studio in Munich and finished by hand. Lovely attention to detail.

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Why I made Proza, a typographic theme for Ghost

2026-10-20T08:20:00Z

Last year, after spending a few years establishing the habit of writing and sending out a post every month, I designed and built a theme of its own for Trema, which I publish with Ghost. I wrote about it at the time:

A fresh coat of paint for Trema
After over two years of writing a book recommendation per month, it was time to design a new and improved reading experience.

After I launched it, people started asking whether they could use the theme, too, and every time I said no. Not because I’m precious about the code, but because Trema’s theme is the manifestation of a very particular set of decisions for a very particular publication. The article page is built around a photograph of a paper book I took myself; the tags, and how they’re organised, influence the page’s layout; the typefaces, Degular and Blanco, are ones I bought licences for, for my own two sites—I can’t hand them out in a zip file.

Strip all that away and what’s left isn’t really the Trema theme any more.

Looking for a typographic theme

The question kept nagging at me, though. When I looked again at what people said they liked, it was the reading. The premium typefaces, the size of the text, the length of the lines. What they were asking for, I think, wasn’t my theme. It was a theme that took the writing on the page seriously.

Scrolling through Ghost’s marketplace, I noticed nearly all its themes start from the picture: a magazine grid, a big feature image, cards in rows, with the text filling the space between. I couldn’t really find great themes that worked their way outwards from the writing and typography. That seemed like a gap worth plugging.

A simple layout, beautifully set

I started with the typeface, and set the theme in Literata by TypeTogether, a serif originally made for Google Play Books in 2014 and completely re-engineered years later. It’s open source, so it can ship with the theme, and it has the technical qualities a book face needs: real italics, ligatures, small caps, old-style figures, and optical sizes that tighten up for headlines and open up for body text. It looks distinctive and refined, and it reads very well.

Literata 3 is a typeface conceived for intensive editorial use, especially on screens of all sorts. Its main potential is in digital publishing, whether on the Web, electronic press, or mobile applications. You can set entire books, magazines, apps, and newspapers in this one typeface, all while using less bandwidth than you’d ever dreamed.

To balance the serif, the smaller parts of the page—navigation, dates, captions—are set in Source Sans 3, Paul D. Hunt’s open-source sans for Adobe. Both are bundled with the theme, so they’re served from the publication’s own domain, not from Google.

Literata’s weights, and part of its character set. From the Literata 3 specimen by TypeTogether.

Most of the time I spent building the theme went into small decisions you only notice when they’re wrong. A few I enjoyed making:

Bold at 600, not 700. Literata’s bold is heavy enough to punch a hole in a paragraph. One step lighter, it still stands out but stays part of the text.
Paragraphs like a book. A first-line indent instead of a blank line, justified and hyphenated. On phones the text goes ragged right, because a narrow justified column opens up rivers between the words.
Figures that fit. Old-style numbers in running text, so a year sits among lowercase letters instead of standing above them (just as they do here, on my website), and lining numbers in dates and tables, where they need to line up.
Small caps for acronyms, so a word like NASA doesn’t shout in the middle of a sentence.
A small square to end a post, the tombstone that magazines use, instead of an ornament. I tried a fleuron first, but it was much too pleased with itself.

Book-style paragraphs, in light and dark. Readers get whichever their device prefers, unless the owner of the publication chooses one specifically.

Not everyone wants their publication to look like a novel, so the book settings are switches, not rules. In Ghost’s design settings you can choose spaced paragraphs or ragged text, Times New Roman instead of Literata, and a fixed light or dark scheme. The defaults are opinionated, but they can be turned off.

Plain Text → Proza

Plain Text was the working title I had for the theme, but the theme soon outgrew it. As my friend Đorđe pointed out, the name seemed to promise a brutalist site set in Times New Roman with bright blue hyperlinks, and what I’d made was going in the opposite direction: quieter, more refined, much closer to a well-set book than a nostalgic website. I renamed it Proza: Dutch for “prose”.

The demo site is set up like a small literary-ish publication, with essays, notes and pictures, so you can see the theme handle real reading rather than lorem ipsum. The pictures are all taken from the public domain: a reading wheel from an 1883 book of scientific amusements, hands from a book printed in Nuremberg in 1491, a children’s book from 1824 in which the commas have feelings. The sample essays are AI-generated, which the site states plainly; they’re there to show how the type behaves, not to pass for my writing, or anyone else’s.

How Proza behaves on a phone

Proza costs $99 (or €89), once, for one publication, with updates and email support included. You can buy it on proza.site, and the documentation is there too, if you’d like to read it first. This is the first time I’ve built a theme and made it available to the wider public, so if you notice any room for improvement in how I’ve explained things, please feel free to reach out.

Trema remains Trema

Trema keeps its own theme, and it hasn’t stood still since that first post. In May I gave it another overhaul: larger book covers on the homepage, a more realistic shading system, different colour settings for fiction and non-fiction books, and a more immersive article page. It’s still tailored to my use case; Proza represents what I learned from making it.

If you’ve asked me for Trema’s theme in the past year: this one’s for you. And if you end up using it, I’d love to see what you write.

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Obsidian Smart Typography

2026-10-19T21:04:00Z

Link: https://github.com/mgmeyers/obsidian-smart-typography?ref=daniel.pizza

If you’ve been following this website for a while, you’ll know I’m a stickler for typographic details. So I was relieved to find Smart Typography, an Obsidian plugin that does to typography what any app should when you’re writing prose.

Since I started using Obsidian, its straight quotes and apostrophes have been nagging me. This plugin by Matthew Meyers fixes them as you type:

"" becomes “curly double quotes”
'' becomes ‘curly single quotes’, and apostrophes are no longer straight
... becomes an ellipsis…
-- becomes an en dash (–), and one more hyphen turns it into an em dash (—)
-> and <- become arrows (→ and ←), and 1/2 becomes ½

Any change can be undone with a single backspace, so it stays out of the way when you actually need a straight quote or two hyphens. Your Markdown files keep the proper characters, too—wherever you take them next.

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Anne Carson Wins the Nobel Prize, and Everyone Is Happy

2026-10-18T10:00:00Z

Link: https://artreview.com/anne-carson-wins-the-nobel-prize-and-everyone-is-happy?ref=daniel.pizza

Anne Carson, 2021. Photo by Christopher Sherman

One more on Anne Carson, this time by Ella Frears, who I am proud previously wrote for TRANSCRIPT. She makes the case in ArtReview for Carson as a Laureate for our times: endlessly curious, irreverent, easily bored.

When asked what drives Carson to change form with every book, she answered:

Boredom, I guess.

Frears covers Carson’s range beautifully, and ends on a reading in a London bookshop in 2013:

There is no such thing as highbrow or lowbrow in Carson’s oeuvre – there is only interest and language; boredom and brilliance.

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‘East of Eden’ Changed Hoon Lee Forever. And Vice Versa.

2026-10-11T08:00:00Z

Link: https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/tv/a74070315/hoon-lee-east-of-eden-interview/?ref=daniel.pizza

Hoon Lee as Lee in East of Eden. Image courtesy of Netflix

Over the last two days my partner and I started and finished East of Eden, Zoe Kazan’s adaptation of the John Steinbeck novel, which I haven’t read. It engulfed us from the first episode. I much prefer a limited series to one built to run for seasons: its makers have to be precise, because there is no time to waste.

Hoon Lee as Lee and Ciarán Hinds as Sam Hamilton. Image courtesy of Netflix

Kazan delivered a fantastic piece of work, and Florence Pugh is great as Cathy Ames, but it’s Ciarán Hinds as Sam Hamilton and Hoon Lee as Lee, the Chinese American caretaker of the Trask family, I will remember most. Lee stole the show.

Here he is talking to Esquire about what the book and the show did to him. He hadn’t read the novel either, until the audition scenes arrived. He finished it in a weekend.

No matter what happened with the audition, I felt the book had come to me as a gift. When I went into that audition, it was almost to thank them for bringing me the book.

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Anne Carson’s Publisher Has Won the Nobel Prize Twice in Two Years

2026-10-10T21:30:00Z

Link: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/10/09/books/new-directions-nobel-anne-carson.html?unlocked_article_code=1.HlE.T-Up.TmPvmEI8uNf9&smid=nytcore-ios-share

Declan Spring, Mieke Chew and Barbara Epler of New Directions. Photo by Vincent Alban for The New York Times

In light of Anne Carson winning the Nobel Prize for Literature (so very much deserved), I was hoping for profiles to hit the internet and found this one, on New Directions, Carson’s publisher. They keep winning Nobels (much like Fitzcarraldo).

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In Defense of the Detour

2026-10-02T11:00:00Z

Link: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2026/09/27/opinion/ai-art-creativity.html?unlocked_article_code=1.FlE.PdOw.T1Q2fHi9Zco8&smid=url-share

Illustration by Giorgia Lupi

Giorgia Lupi, whose 1,374 Days I shared last year, is back in The New York Times with a visual essay on craft and AI. AI is useful when the problem is well-defined, but design and art are about getting lost along the way.

You immerse yourself in the world of the people you’re designing for, look for visual metaphors, stumble onto something unexpected, and push things around until they break, or until they make sense.

Anything worth remembering came from a person who did not know where she or he was going until arriving. No shortcut gets you there: the process leaves a trace.

She doesn’t dismiss the tools; her team uses AI too, but only once the design is done, to help carry it out at scale. The design is in the detour.

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The Making of Cursor’s Icons

2026-10-02T07:35:00Z

Link: https://www.minoradventures.co/blog/the-making-of-cursors-icons?ref=daniel.pizza

Images courtesy of Marek Minor

I’ve worked with Marek for years, on projects for IKEA and AutoStore among others, and have always admired his system-level thinking, his craft, and his attention to detail. This project for Cursor is the perfect showcase for all of those abilities. The case study is lengthy, but anything shorter wouldn’t do the work justice.

At 1px the icons felt too thin next to text. It’s hard to say exactly why – they just didn’t hold their own. At 1.5px they felt too heavy. At 1.25px a 16px icon sits beside 16px Cursor Gothic, their custom typeface, and looks just right. You follow your eye on decisions like this. At some point the number is a record of a decision the eye already made.

The icons set inline with Cursor Gothic

The icons sit perfectly next to Cursor Gothic, and I love seeing this level of craft get prioritised in a product and company like theirs.

Marek walks through the explorations, the dead ends and the reasoning behind every decision, and with this case study he’s created a generous resource for anyone learning the craft.

The icons in one of Cursor’s context menus

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Agentic Systems Are the Future of Brands

2026-10-01T10:00:00Z

Link: https://agentic.littleplains.com/?ref=daniel.pizza

Image courtesy of Little Plains

Little Plains makes the case for Agentic Brand Systems: kits of visual rules, voice guidelines and working code that guide people and agents alike, so a brand doesn’t drift as it spreads across more tools and teams.

Give the same assignment to an agent and it guesses at a much higher rate. The result may look completely competent. However, each unsupported choice moves the work a little closer to what a generic product would do. It’s not slop, it’s just…mid.

Interesting times for brand studios, and for those commissioning them. Scaling a (re)brand is becoming (unavoidably) more agentic. Rolling out and levelling up a company’s brand expression is technically easier than ever, but the surface area you need to cover has grown quite a bit. We’re going to need to grow a few extra pairs of eyes.

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McLaren. Our brand world.

2026-09-22T12:24:00Z

Link: https://youtu.be/nRR6yla8vus?ref=daniel.pizza

McLaren revealed an evolved identity this month, the road cars and the racing team now sharing the same voice.

The Speedmark stays, and so does the Papaya colour. What’s new is the wordmark, sourced from the service station that Bruce McLaren’s parents, Les and Ruth, ran in Remuera, Auckland. That’s where Bruce McLaren built the car that won him his first race.

The service station in Remuera, and the new McLaren Racing lockup, images courtesy of McLaren

I’m not sure how I feel about the new McLaren Racing lockup—the previous logo, still featured in the navigation bar on the McLaren Racing website, felt more… race-y? The production quality of the film itself, though, is extraordinary. The storytelling is very well done. Restrained, but crackling.

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Apple opens Apple Music Hall in London

2026-09-22T09:45:00Z

Link: https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2026/09/apple-opens-apple-music-hall-a-state-of-the-art-live-music-venue-in-london/?ref=daniel.pizza

Apple opened a 600-capacity venue inside Battersea Power Station yesterday. The room borrows from the power station it sits in—heritage brickwork, fluted arches, bronze balconies. In an age where concert venues are usually not much more than a black box with a logo over its door, this looks beautifully done.

Apple Music Hall and the new Apple Music Radio studios, images courtesy of Apple

There are two mix studios, a 48-speaker spatial system around the audience, and sixteen-odd hardwired cameras feeding a broadcast control room. An artist can play one intimate show and leave with a finished Spatial Audio recording, a broadcast mix and multicamera video.

Very clever, and a very expensive way of funneling listeners to an Apple Music subscription. (I guess this explains the push notification I received for a new two-month trial.)

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Nicholas Payton + Butcher Brown: Resolution

2026-09-21T20:18:38Z

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AIVRSkCvHc

“Resolution” is the second movement of A Love Supreme, the 1965 Coltrane album, and Nicholas Payton and Butcher Brown make playing their rendition look like a walk in the park.

This one’s taken from A Supreme Blue, a reimagining of that album alongside Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue. The first five tracks follow the Davis album in order, then come Coltrane’s four parts.

As Jack Kenny puts it on All About Jazz:

A Supreme Blue is not a museum piece but a translation. It reframes two landmark statements through a contemporary sonic language that privileges groove, texture, and atmosphere. House rhythms, electric keyboards, and layered production reshape the modal and spiritual frameworks of the originals, rendering them less austere and more rhythmically grounded.

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Butterick’s Practical Typography

2026-09-21T14:42:00Z

Link: https://practicaltypography.com/?ref=daniel.pizza

Matthew Butterick’s Practical Typography—reader-supported, ad-free, and still one of the most useful things to read on typography I know. Published on the web since 2013.

Start with “Typography in ten minutes”, five rules that will, as he puts it, make you “a better typographer than nearly every writer—and even most graphic designers”.

My personal favourites to nerd out on: straight and curly quotes, ampersands, paragraph and section marks.

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On building a home on the web (III)

2026-09-07T22:05:23Z

In June of last year, over the course of nine or ten days, I built the first version of the site you’re reading now. I moved it off Framer because I wanted to be in the code again; the canvas is great for design, but it puts a layer between you and what you’re building. (I started my career as a front-end developer, and no-code tools still feel to me the way Dreamweaver did back then.)

Fifteen months on, I’ve taken stock.

A quiet Journal, a busier Links page

The Journal, which I assumed would be the heart of it, has been quiet: I’ve published a dozen posts or so, six of them written in a single week at a writing residency in the Pyrenees. Some of that I’ll blame on the year I’ve had—a stretch of contracting, then joining Enode full-time, and an art book to write and edit. With so many projects going on, writing about the work tends to lose out to doing the work. But, I’d still like to lower my bar for publishing, and train that muscle.

Aulus-les-Bains (I)
The first day of my weeklong writing residency at Camp, in Aulus-les-Bains.

On the Links page, my blog of sorts, I’ve published eighty-five new links since the launch, on top of the fifty-five that were already there. The page had lain dormant for five months before that; then sixteen appeared in August alone. Having a new space I enjoyed working in restarted the habit.

I spent most of the year extending what I’d started. I built a Library for the books I’ve read, and wired it up to my monthly recommendations on Trema, narrowing the gap between my two sites. I found my way back to RSS for reading the authors I follow online, and made sure my own site had one cohesive feed on offer, too. Less visibly, I regrouped the Journal by year, moved to the variable cut of Degular for proper italics, and rebuilt the image processing, so the site now weighs well under half what it did.

And this week I added a Photos page, as my photos were the last thing I still handed over to somebody else’s feed (Instagram). I’d rather they lived here, in an order I chose. More on that soon, in a separate post.

Photos
Taken with an Olympus AF-10 and an AF-10 Super, usually on Kodak Ultramax, and never edited.

The homepage got a rebuild, too. Where previously it focused primarily on my efforts as a designer, it now presents a bit of a broader picture of what I do, folding in my reading and writing habits, too.

Publishing without a feed’s demands

I keep coming back to the links I published, though. After the August peak the pace settled: two or three a month since the new year, sometimes just one. I read that as a failure of discipline at first, then decided it’s a realistic rate—how often I come across something worth keeping or sharing. Four a week was the enthusiasm of a new toy. Two or three a month I could keep doing for a decade.

And that, I think, is the appeal. A timeline on social media asks you to keep talking at the speed of everyone else’s attention, but nobody has all that many thoughts worth sharing. A page you own doesn’t punish you for going quiet through February, and it doesn’t reward you for posting eleven times on a Tuesday. It just holds whatever you put there.

Some of the older links I’ve put up date back to 2022. They’re still sitting at the same addresses—while nothing I posted to Twitter survived, and not only because of the platform’s demise. Even at the platform’s healthiest, a post had a useful life of a few hours before it fell through the floor of the feed. My archive was technically present, but practically unreachable, even for me.

The links as connective tissue

Then, this spring, an email arrived. A teacher who runs a graphic design and coding bootcamp had three students putting together a beginner’s guide to web design for the rest of their group. Somewhere in their research they’d landed on my Links page, and found it useful enough to ask her to write and say thank you.

That’s the whole point, really. It’s one thing to drop a resource into a social feed; it’s another to have a page where it stays, where three students can find it months later and pass it on in a guide of their own. I learned most of my trade the same way, twenty-odd years ago—browsing from website to website, day after day. It’s good to remember the web can still work like that, if you let it.

Matthias Ott made a version of this argument in 2019, in Into the Personal-Website-Verse, and has kept making it since. His case isn’t only that you should own your corner of the web; it’s that these corners should point to one another. That the acknowledging, and arguing, and building-upon we outsourced to timelines can happen between sites instead, one link at a time.

Into the Personal-Website-Verse
Matthias Ott on why personal websites matter, and why they should point to one another.

He suggests keeping a links section for exactly this reason: find a good thought on somebody else’s site, write about it, link to it, and over the years you’ve built an archive for yourself and for anyone who wanders in.

For a while I thought of my links as the filler between real posts. Matthias is right that they’re the connective tissue. Roughly five hundred people read the things I collect every month, and now and again I find a link back from somebody else’s site. My activity on the site ebbs and flows, but the pages stay put—and every so often somebody follows a link to the corner I keep on the internet.

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95 reasons for having your own website

2026-08-05T09:04:00Z

Link: https://bellkiosk.website/blog/reasons-to-website.html?ref=daniel.pizza

My favourites? Too many.

Related reading from 2018, Laurel Schwulst’s “My website is a shifting house next to a river of knowledge. What could yours be?”.

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The Dying Art of Hand-Made Restaurant Signs

2026-07-20T19:59:00Z

Link: https://youtu.be/4cAt2CAptkw?si=Ci0Mk_Q33ejwa6rS

A 26-minute documentary by NYT Cooking on what makes a good restaurant sign, and what they mean to a business. They look at New York City’s iconic lettering with the artists behind Noble Signs, who hand-painted signs all over the city. Wonderful work.

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Writing the NoGood book

2026-07-09T00:00:00Z

Some twenty-odd years ago I’d spend hours on end in my bedroom, in the attic of our house, my big, boxy, self-built computer humming reassuringly on the floor beside my feet. I hung out on forums, wrote reviews about music, and built little websites about everything that interested me—chucking them out after two weeks to pursue new ways of building things, writing things. I’d spend evenings scrolling other people’s sites too, clicking my way from one to the next and inspecting the code to work out how its creators had pulled something off: the typographic details, the shadows and gradients, the textures. I loved that version of the web, and my time on it.

The NoGood book. All photography by Lilia Luganskaia-Kuilder

The illustrations by my friend Thomas are reminiscent of those days. They’re rooted in a world of rickety hardware, flickering lights, and precariously wired contraptions. They have a tactile quality, and carry the same mindset I felt back then: of independence, and a novel kind of community. A kinship with those building things out in the open.

When he told me he was designing a book of his work and asked me to write it, I was immediately excited, and looked forward to putting the story behind his work to paper. The assignment seemed simple enough: here are hundreds of pages of visual work, let’s introduce them to the world. But initially, every sentence I added got in the way of the images. Slowly, the writing became a study in what not to say.

Thomas is a humble fellow and doesn’t feel the need to speak to his work all that much, so working together meant first building an all-encompassing outline, then taking away as much as we possibly could. Through hours of conversation, many texts, and shared references, we inched closer to what drives him, and what he’d like to get across to his readers.

What’s left, I think, is a gentle introduction to his moniker, NoGood: a foreword and a few chapters covering how it came to be, why it’s the perfect place for him to experiment and grow his practice, and where it might be headed next.

I loved doing this—the whole thing was an exercise in restraint, which turned out to be the truest way to introduce someone who lets the work speak for itself. Many thanks to Thomas for trusting me with it.

You can buy the book now, over on the NoGood website.

If you’re sitting on a body of work that’s looking for writing to accompany it, I’d love to hear from you.

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McLaren M6GT

2026-07-06T20:58:00Z

Link: https://www.mclaren.com/cars/gl_en/m6gt-mclaren-special-operations?ref=daniel.pizza

The Special Operations team at McLaren restored the McLaren M6GT, a car designed in 1967 by Bruce McLaren, yet never made it past the prototype phase.

Details of the McLaren M6GT

This was never going to be a simple rebuild. We took it as an act of custodianship, with an immense responsibility to stay true to the original vision. The goal wasn’t merely to imitate the M6GT, but to bring it back. Honestly. Faithfully. With the same obsession that Bruce channelled into the original.

There’s a short video of it on YouTube, too. Gorgeous machinery.

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