Signs of the political season
Happy Victoria Day, everyone.
It’s a greeting you don’t hear often nowadays. Here, in our neck of the woods, the long weekend in May brings some familiar returns: In New Dundee, for instance, picnic and fireworks on Sunday; parade on Monday.
Most of the old associations, however, have faded away, especially banners and rituals celebrating ties with the British Commonwealth, and before that, the Empire. And nothing new has taken their place.
Most of the flag flying, patriotic bunting and fireworks have been transferred to Canada Day.
As a holiday, the May Long or May Two-Four weekend has become almost as nondescript as the August Long, certainly with regard to any visual markings comparable, say, to Christmas, Halloween or Easter.
What remains, of course, is the earthly season. Who needs patriotic bunting when the world around is in bloom? Crocuses, tulips, daffodils, forget-menots, lilacs; cherries, pears, plums, apples.
As it happens, this year the colours of spring are augmented by election signage, with the standard partisan hues predominating: orange, red, blue, green.
Over the next few weeks more and more will pop up along major thoroughfares and on lawns in every neighbourhood, and remain in full bloom until the big day, after which they will disappear almost immediately.
While they last, they add a rather jolly tone to what is a serious and often tense process.
Elections divide us. Unfortunately, all too often they’re treated as opportunities to exploit, and exacerbate, our fears, resentments and prejudices. Lightening things up a bit could help. There were festive elements when our democratic processes were in their infancy: I remember reading about election day cakes in the U.S., and about the free flow of whisky during election campaigns here in Upper Canada.
Election seasons aren’t like Christmas: They don’t happen every year at a specific time. But they happen often enough, and have their own symbols and rituals. So they can be seen as a kind of festival or holiday.
The signage is a critical element. En masse, or in particular, signs don’t make much of a difference to the outcome. But every party, and every candidate has to have them — lots and lots of them — to demonstrate they are a viable choice.
Overall, the effect can be pleasing. The design of a particular sign can also be pleasing, or not: Some look better than others.
The lawn signs are a bit like Halloween decorations. There’s room for some creative expansion here.
I can’t think of a parallel to the road signs. In normal times, this isn’t allowed. Billboards are permitted, but with charges and in strictly limited numbers. The exception to the rule is one of the ways election seasons are special.
The wide availability of various kinds of software for layout and design has led to a new appreciation for the design elements of election signage. Not so long ago, most of us didn’t know what the word “font” or “Pantone” signifies.
I remember someone, I think it was in Guelph, offering a witty and informed critique of the signage in an election season not long ago, complete with a set of winners in various categories.
Something along these lines could be a fun addition to the rituals of an election season, at least of the municipal variety. For provincial and confederal campaigns, there’s little room for creativity. The signage is standardized along lines set by party headquarters.
That’s just a thought. There must be many other ways election seasons could be more fun, including just imagining what could be.