In Nagledna, I explore the place of letters from my father’s newspaper archive. I arrange them so that when a person presses a particular key on the computer keyboard, the corresponding character appears in a different place on the screen as a short animation – the letter grows larger, rotates, and gradually disappears. The rotation is accompanied by a brief sound, which is not the sound of the letter itself, but rather a light ringing tone, with each letter having its own pitch. In this way, the typeface and the entire alphabet begin to sound in their own rhythm, depending on what the user types. The result is a pleasant, sonorous and colorful composition made entirely of letters. For me, a truly good letter should be an instrument capable of sounding on its own – not simply following the sound of language, but generating a sound of its own. In this way, a message built from such letters begins to sound in its own way and can be perceived more fully than standard visual solutions that rely solely on beautiful typefaces.

A research of the peaceful protests in Czechoslovakia in 1968 and their peaceful suppression. In 2008, together with my father Radoslav Stanev and journalist Diana Ivanova, we embarked on a journey in the footsteps of the occupier. Radoslav, as a young soldier of 20 years, ended up in Czechoslovakia as part of the occupation troops of the CMEA countries and aimed to stop the liberalization process there. It was extremely interesting for him to return to the same places 40 years later and talk to the people there. In this way, I saw the human face of this large-scale act, without any embarrassment or feeling of guilt, an ordinary witness to a large-scale political act of repression. During this journey, I also became aware of the Latin alphabet and the complex way of spelling words that Czechs and Slovaks had. I realized that the Glagolitic script was actually intended for them, but they did not accept it and came up with this complicated way of writing in Latin. At the end of the trip, we spend a few days in golden Prague, where we accidentally came across the exhibition “Glagolic Dictatorship”. Bulgaria has cleverly circumvented this unwanted influence with the help of the Cyrillic script - a true art of diplomacy. The module of this type of writing is different, I began to understand more deeply the role of letters not only in its own history, but also on the European stage.

In The Great Excursion, using only words and well-chosen typography, I analyze the 1989 migration of more than half a million ethnic Turks from Bulgaria to Turkey and Western Europe. A topic close to me due to the mixed region in which I grew up and my childhood friendship with many ethnic Turks. The expression of such a delicate topic can be most easily done through personal memories of a pure childhood, in which something as unnatural and incomprehensible as this political emigration took place. I had never paid attention to phototype fonts before - I used such a phototype layout, in a simple and clear way I wrote in words on several walls a few childhood memories of this process. The question of the type of Cyrillic script did not arise before me at all - the project was so imbued with my own identity that the Cyrillic script in it could not be any other than Bulgarian, including its Latin layout, which I used for the translation into English. So, besides Sofia, The Great Excursion was presented in London, Berlin, Birmingham, Zurich and of course Istanbul. The presentation of the project in London also connected me with my friend David Pearson - Type as Image, which really changed my understanding of typography in general. So let's talk a little about the restoration of letters, with a message that brings out a collective dream of a Bright Future.

A message built with the help of restored glowing letters, forgotten somewhere on the old facades of buildings on our city streets. A message that managed to pass the test of time and capable of uniting and directing those who see it in the right direction beyond the gray everyday life and covering many of the questions of causality in our time. However, building a font composed of old neon letters turned out to be a very practical activity - I began to perceive the letter three-dimensionally, even if it remained in the two-dimensional space of the sheet in front of me. Since all the letters from the old neon advertisements were handmade, they bore the handwriting of each local craftsman who made them. So, in addition to three-dimensionally, I began to perceive them as manuscripts and to better understand their codicology. Important foundations on which the architecture of a letter is built, i.e. Not just a series of rules that we follow because we have been taught to do so since childhood. This is a whole new world, driven solely by the tireless desire to deal with it. As we well know, with a hand-written/made letter, every imperfection is a quality of the letter.

The poster as a form of expression is well known and closely related to the art of typography. But how to find the perfect balance between composition, color, font and graphic element. In The Year of Our Discontent I use the golden ratio to shape the composition, made by eye, adhering entirely to the rule of perfection in the imperfect. Here, authorship is entirely important, each of the handmade posters carries the proud spirit of copyright on text, font and graphics, the message follows the philosophy of the Bright Future, which is Freedom of Expression. The freedom that we zealously guard always within ourselves, preserving the message of peaceful protest from the time of the Prague Spring, in 1989 to the present day.