How important are signs? Just say âRedâs Eatsâ or âMoodyâs Dinerâ to a summer visitor and then sit back and listen.
Driving to Belfast yesterday, I mused, as I often do, on the many Mom-and-Pop businesses along the way. Theyâre as much a part of the Maine landscape as the rocks and the lobster boats. Their signs are idiosyncratic, old-fashioned and different than in most tourist destinations. Without them, Route 1 would be much less interesting.
Signage, in its most utilitarian form, instructs us. Beyond that, it is a social art form. It decorates, it identifies, and it communicates ideas to passers-by.
âYour house has a name!â my Scottish friend Martha exclaimed when she visited me last summer. Middle-class Americans donât generally name their houses. Britons do. But our sign has been there since long before we bought this place. It is called Richards Hill after the first owner, from when the surrounding area was farmland. It wasnât my place to take its nameplate down, even though I have a different business sign at the street.
In fact, many buildings along Route 1 have multiple signs from different periods. These are like layers in an archeological dig. Thereâs a motel in Lincolnville with a dull 1990s-era street sign. But its office sign is perfect mid-century neon.
In my town (Rockport) business signs must be small, not internally lighted, and conform to a setback. That isnât true everywhere on Route 1, but it does contribute to the aesthetic of hand-painted, hand-carved signs that prevails here.
Neon, which was introduced in the 1920s and reached its peak in the 1940s, is used sparingly. Itâs not permitted in Rockport, but in general itâs expensive, and the tubes break.
Part of the reason signage here is so charming is that Mainers are basically frugal. They donât change what ainât broke. Signs last a long time if maintained.
The other part is that big-box stores, by and large, have little presence here. There are some, but theyâre not ubiquitous and despoiling, as they are in so many places. The absence of their large, lighted signs is refreshing.
Signs tell us a lot about the people within the businesses they advertise. There are antique shops on Route 1 that are barely more than a rotating flea market. Others are quite elegant, and their signage is more tasteful.
Signs also reflect personality and background. Here in Maine, they tend toward the âcolonialâ, which speaks both to their mid-century vintage and the predominant WASP culture.
How important are signs? Just say âRedâs Eatsâ or âMoodyâs Dinerâ to a summer visitor and then listen as they start bubbling over. Signs are part of a placeâs cultural heritage and its community memory. They are landmarks, sometimes more important than the buildings they mark. Theyâre individual, clever, and evocative. Thatâs art, folks.
