They're hard to spot, though their work isn't. Few of us recognize their craft, no matter how many times we pass it in the window of a bodega or boutique. None in Tampa have dedicated websites. It can be nearly impossible to track them down — that is, unless you walk into a store they've worked on and ask the owner, Who did that?
But sign painters — and their allied trades of hand-lettering, typography design and letterpress art — are getting a rare boost of attention at Tampa Heights' new Illsol gallery. The first-ever Letterheads TypeFest will give space to the handmade work of 25 local and international artists — though not all call themselves that.
Organizers Michelle Sawyer and Tony Krol plan on establishing Letterheads as an annual event. This would make Tampa home to one of the few type-centric art gatherings anywhere in the world. Their first installment has contributions from as far as Dublin, London, L.A. and Cancún, Mexico.
This is good news for a small community of letterers and sign painters who have dealt with a whiplashing series of ups and downs. Once a predominant trade with a proud culture, it has lived through challenges like the '70s advent of vinyl lettering — the quick, cheap, crappy process that can be seen flaking off of windows and banners everywhere. Hand-letterers talk about "pre-vinyl" and "post-vinyl" as if it were some sort of apocalyptic extinction event — which it almost was. Since then, the craft has hung on by its fingertips. But maybe, just maybe, things are looking up.
"I've never seen it slow down," says Matt Callahan, 39, who runs Man Made Murals. "And I don't think it will slow down . . . I'm always getting emails."
"[Vinyl is] the aesthetic of everybody doing something quick, and easy," says Krol, who creates murals and signs with Sawyer under the name Illsol. "Hand-painting," he says, "takes two days versus 20 minutes, but it will last for 20 years." That estimate is on the low end: A look around the city can reveal signs painted almost a century ago.
Just a couple blocks up Florida Avenue from Illsol is Southeastern Fishing Tackle Liquidators. Aside from having the very best local prices on braided line and pre-owned rods, it also has one of the best curb presences in Tampa. There's a Great White shark sticking up from the roof, and the wall has a bright blue painted seascape with someone named "Red" throwing a cast-net. In front is the company's logo over a keeper snook.
All co-owner Mike Scanio knows is that the painter's name was Ginger. But he's happy with the results.
"We wanted [the sign] to mirror us, and the way we do things, which is kind of old-fashioned," he said. "It goes with our personalized service.
"That's always been our method of displaying our name," Scanio said. "So to speak, there's that old saying: If the wheel ain't broke don't fix it."
That logic works for many business owners. But there aren't enough to provide local sign painters a dedicated living. Paradoxically, many local artists make more money painting murals — considered more of a "fine art" — and only do commercial sign painting on the side. Shifting tastes have led to an strangely upside-down relationship between art and business.
Leo Gomez's business combines hand-lettering, branding, and graphic design. He grew up enamored with graffiti in Colombia, and his interest developed into a full-time operation in St. Pete. But the signs side of his business is tenuous.
"You have to love it," he says. "Because it's not every day that a business owner wants a sign. It has to be in your blood. I would not be able to make it with just sign painting."
But not all examples of the craft are done for money. Across Tampa, a number of distinctive red-and-green signs offer religious messages to passersby. They are anonymous, but many appear on the properties of a businessman named T.D. McRae.
Pastor Cornelius Hamilton runs a church ministry in one of McRae's buildings, under cursive letters reading Believe this — Jesus Never Fails.
"That's his way of spreading the message of God's love around the community," Hamilton says. A 2011 article in the Tampa Bay Times told how Hamilton decided to open his ministry (and his barbecue restaurant) in the space after seeing the sign from the street.
Its simple, striking lettering is an example of another use for this craft: personal statements, messages of passion and commitment.
On the internet and elsewhere, this mode of personalized hand-lettering has gained in popularity. Websites like Pinterest are awash in intricate hand typography. Gomez teaches a lettering class at the Tampa art space The Paper Seahorse, and by popular demand he will start teaching a dedicated sign painting class in November.
While computers may be disseminating this art form, Gomez thinks they are also the reason people are longing to learn it in the first place.
"People can grab a pencil or pen and do things by hand, rather than typing everything on a computer," he says. "There's nowhere to learn that anymore. . . Some people have not held a pencil in their hand in a long time. Some people have never learned script."
Gomez sounds hopeful that his teaching might make the public more open to the sign-painting craft that he says is in his blood.
"When you do [lettering] and go through the process, you may have an appreciation for it, and for people who do it full time."
The artists and tradespeople displaying their handiwork at Illsol can only hope that he's right.
