How we create books and magazines

Creating a book or magazine, for SB\Design, means working with one of the most complete forms of design. Even in an increasingly digital world, craft remains absolutely present. A book is a physical, cultural and graphic object that demands time, organization, technical knowledge, sensitivity and precision. It is built in layers: content, editing, rhythm, typography, imagery, paper, color, printing, finishing and binding. When everything works, the reader simply opens it, moves through it and understands it. But behind that apparent simplicity lies an enormous number of decisions that need to be made with method, repertoire and control.

At SB\Design, editorial work begins long before layout. It begins with understanding the content, its nature, volume, audience, purpose and the way it should be experienced. An art book, a catalogue, a magazine, an institutional publication, or a book about architecture, photography or fashion can require completely different solutions. One of the first stages, therefore, is to organize everything in depth: texts, chapters, interviews, captions, credits, images, references, notes, indexes, timelines, documents and complementary materials. The larger the project, the more important this architecture becomes. SB\Design is prepared to develop everything from shorter publications to large-scale books of 500, 800 or even 1,000 pages when necessary. At that scale, editorial design is no longer simply a sequence of well-designed pages. It becomes a complex information system that needs to maintain coherence, hierarchy and rhythm from beginning to end.

A substantial publication demands rigorous planning. It is necessary to build an architecture capable of organizing chapters, sections, openings, long and short texts, images, captions, notes and different rhythms without losing unity. Design needs to create consistency without producing monotony. An overly rigid system can make hundreds of pages predictable, while a system without rules can turn the publication into a sequence of disconnected solutions. The challenge lies in building a structure that is solid enough to organize the content and flexible enough to allow moments of pause, intensity, surprise and changes of pace. This is why the grid is one of the main tools of the editorial process. It works as an invisible infrastructure capable of organizing hundreds or thousands of decisions without imprisoning the project. Some pages need to breathe, others need to concentrate information, a photograph may require an entire page, a sequence may extend across several spreads, and a chapter opening may work almost like a pause in the narrative.

We also always think of a book as a sequence, not simply as isolated pages. Books are read through spreads, page turns and relationships between what came before and what appears next. There is rhythm, expectation, pause and acceleration. In a photography or art book, for example, image editing can construct a narrative that is just as important as the text itself. One image can prepare the next, two images placed side by side can create a third interpretation, and a blank page can be as significant as a fully occupied one. This is why, when we talk about editorial design, we are also talking about editing. Editing means selecting, organizing, bringing elements closer together, separating them, removing, repeating and creating relationships. A book does not necessarily become better because it contains more content. It becomes better when there is clarity about the role of each piece of content and the order in which it should appear.

Typography is another fundamental raw material. Choosing a typeface for an editorial project is not simply choosing an appearance. It means thinking about reading, scale, weight, leading, line length, contrast, hierarchy, languages, special characters and behavior across hundreds of pages. A typeface may work perfectly in a title and become uncomfortable over fifty pages of continuous text. Another may be excellent for long-form reading but lack enough presence for an opening spread. This is why we build typographic systems with clearly defined functions. Titles, subtitles, intermediate headings, body copy, quotations, notes, captions, credits, folios, indexes and other levels of information need to relate to one another clearly. When this system works, the reader barely notices its existence. They simply understand. This is one of the great paradoxes of good editorial design: the more work that exists behind the organization, the more natural the experience feels.

Images also require enormous attention. Working with photography, art, architecture or fashion means understanding scale, framing, reproduction and sequence. Not every image needs to have the same size, nor does every image have the same importance, and design needs to reveal these differences. We also need to evaluate file quality, resolution, cropping, treatment, contrast, sharpness and the possibility of enlargement. An image that works perfectly on a screen may not have sufficient quality to occupy a printed double-page spread. Image treatment and file preparation are therefore part of the process. The same applies to color. In digital environments, we see light; in print, we see ink on a surface. The same image can behave completely differently depending on the paper, printing technique, color profile and ink density. A coated stock can produce an entirely different reproduction from an uncoated paper, just as a photograph with very deep shadows may lose detail once printed.

This is why, for SB\Design, editorial work does not end when the file is sent to the printer. When the project requires it, we follow proofs, tests and adjustments throughout the production process. Evaluating a physical proof is very different from evaluating a screen. It is necessary to observe density, contrast, neutrality, skin tones, blacks, saturation, shadow detail and highlights. Many important decisions happen at this stage and, in certain projects, individual images need to be adjusted, curves revised, or density and contrast modified so that the printed result approaches what was originally intended. In more complex projects, attending the press check can be fundamental. There is an artisanal dimension within an industrial process, and this relationship between technical precision and graphic sensitivity is part of what we understand as craft.

Paper is also part of the design. It is not merely the surface onto which content is printed. Weight, texture, opacity, tone, stiffness, transparency and the way it receives ink directly affect the experience. The same layout can feel completely different when printed on two different papers. In some projects, it makes sense to work with more than one stock within the same publication, using changes in texture, color or weight to separate sections, create rhythm or establish different moments of reading. Material communicates. The choice of paper can suggest precision, sophistication, naturalness, tradition, experimentation or simplicity before the reader consciously processes the content.

Binding is another stage that needs to be considered from the beginning. Hardcover, softcover, sewn binding, exposed spine, Swiss binding, different adhesives, fabrics, special papers, dust jackets, slipcases and other possibilities directly influence how a book opens, how durable it is, how much it weighs and how it feels to read. In large, heavy books these decisions become even more important. A publication with hundreds of pages requires paper, format, spine, sewing, adhesive and cover to work as one integrated system. If these definitions are left until the end, the weight of the book itself can create structural problems or make the reading experience uncomfortable. In this sense, editorial design is also engineering.

Finishing adds another layer of possibilities. Foil stamping, debossing and embossing, varnishes, screen printing, fabrics, painted edges, die cuts, transparencies, inserts and different techniques can transform the experience of the object. But for SB\Design, finishing should not exist merely to signal luxury or sophistication. It needs to be part of the concept. There are extraordinary books produced with very few resources and others that justify an extremely sophisticated construction. The decision depends on the content, audience, print run, budget and desired experience. A great book should not be only a container for information. The object itself can interpret the content. In an architecture book, format can establish a dialogue with proportion and space. In photography, it can privilege the scale of the image. In fashion, materials and rhythm can create a tactile experience. In an artistic project, the structure of the book itself can become part of the work.

Editorial creation also requires integration between many people and disciplines. Editor, designer, author, photographer, artist, curator, writer, proofreader and print production teams need to work in coordination. Complex publications may involve hundreds of captions, credits, names, dates, dimensions, works, references and versions. In a 1,000-page book, small details become an entire universe. This is why file organization, naming conventions, spreadsheets, image lists, version control and tracking systems are as much a part of design as grid and typography. The beauty of a complex publication depends directly on this invisible discipline.

Review is another critical stage. Not only proofreading, but design review. Pages need to be revisited continuously. Awkward breaks appear, captions change, images are replaced, chapters grow, others shrink, the index changes and pagination needs to be updated. A small modification can generate consequences many pages later. This is why editorial work demands method, patience and almost obsessive attention. Then come physical proofs, dummies and prototypes. A book needs to be held in the hands before we can truly evaluate its proportion, weight, thickness, opening behavior, margins, typographic scale and rhythm. Something that appears large on screen may feel small on paper; a margin that seemed generous may disappear after binding; a photograph may acquire a completely different presence once it physically occupies a page. The object teaches us.

This is perhaps one of the greatest differences between editorial design and much of digital design. In digital environments, we can continuously update. Once a book is printed, it remains. A thousand copies containing an error will continue to contain that error. This irreversibility creates a particular responsibility. Before a file goes into production, everything needs to be checked page by page, image by image, caption by caption, credit by credit and detail by detail. And even after that, the work continues at the printer.

When we see a great finished book on a table, we rarely imagine everything that had to happen for it to exist. We see a cover, turn a few pages and look at some images, but behind that object there may be months or years of research, editing, photography, writing, proofreading, design, image treatment, material selection, proofing, printing, binding, quality control and logistics. A book is an extremely complex collective work disguised as a simple object. Perhaps that is exactly why we continue to enjoy making them so much.

Even in a digital world, there is an experience that screens cannot fully replace. There is weight, texture, smell, sound, scale and the physical sensation of turning a page. There is the possibility of perceiving an entire publication as an object. For SB\Design, digital and print do not necessarily compete. They are different and complementary experiences. A book can coexist with a website, film, digital archive, exhibition, social content or online platform, but it possesses something particular: permanence. When well produced, it can last for decades.

This permanence also increases our responsibility regarding materials and production. A large book uses paper, ink, energy, transportation and multiple industrial processes. Choices involving format, paper, print run, suppliers and finishes therefore need to be conscious. Using more resources does not automatically make a publication better. Craft also means knowing when to remove. Often, a simple solution executed with extraordinary precision has more strength than a succession of effects.

At SB\Design, directed by Sandro Bianco, we understand editorial design as a discipline in which content, design and production need to function as one. We are capable of developing everything from a short publication to extremely complex editorial systems with hundreds or even 1,000 pages, always building a methodology capable of controlling content, imagery, typography, color, materials and production without losing what gives the project its personality. Creating a book or magazine means transforming an enormous amount of information into an understandable experience. It means creating order without eliminating emotion, building rules without eliminating surprise, choosing what to show and also what should remain outside, controlling thousands of details while maintaining a clear view of the whole.

This is how SB\Design creates books and magazines: by understanding the content deeply before designing, building a solid editorial architecture, editing and organizing information, developing typographic and visual systems capable of extending across hundreds of pages, treating every image with care, choosing paper, materials, printing and binding as parts of the concept, and following the process until what existed on screen is correctly transformed into an object. Because, for us, editorial work does not end with the layout. It ends when the book is printed, bound, open on a table, and everything that seemed extraordinarily complex for months finally feels simple. This is the craft that continues to exist within SB\Design.