Square Is The Old Black
An aesthetic for the ages; who’s got your back; the retail flood; 007 is shaken; a silent album.
Me and rabbit holes are developing a regular relationship. This week, let us slide down a visual format that swirls across the decades.
Square is the old black : A visual aesthetic for the ages.
Friday Find: You Got This, and We Got You.
Buy Now! : Or, don’t.
Bond, Shaken Bond: 007 changes hands.
With: A silent album from 1000 artists; transient trends and a podcast queen.
1. Square is the Old Black
Some time ago, a conversation with an old friend led me to remember an early app on an early iPhone. I spoke of it, visualised it, remembered what it did… but, incredibly, I couldn’t recall its name.
A couple of days later, as these things go, it struck me like a gentle rap on the head. Hipstamatic! A photo filter app born of the then recent miracle of ‘cameraphones’ in our pockets, it was one I looked at for a long time before plonking down a few dollars to actually buy it. Many of us (certainly me) may not have known it then, but Hipstamatic was at the forefront of a new visual aesthetic.
New, and very old.
Squarely Centred
In late 2009, digital cameras were pushing toward ever-wider formats and higher resolutions, but a countermovement emerged in the palm of our hands: on our phones. Hipstamatic’s launch marked the beginning of something few could have predicted—a renaissance of the square format.
Its business model was selling in-app digital ‘lenses’ and ‘films’, which effectively turned your iPhone into a lo-fi analog camera. The app (and what it did to our newly-minted camera photos) felt both nostalgic, and new. The images were square—deliberately so— with light leaks, vignettes, and grain. It mimicked old-school cameras most of us had never actually handled, and an aesthetic many were barely aware of. Yet, the world was somehow taken by the act of making our photos into artifacts of some collective past we hadn't exactly experienced, but somehow recognised.
Hipstamatic co-founder Lucas Buick spoke about the inspiration, "We wanted to recreate the experience of shooting with a plastic toy camera, where you didn't have complete control and had to embrace the unpredictability. That’s where the magic happens."
At the heart of this magic was the square format, which carried the sort of nostalgic weight that rectangular digital photos didn't have.
This weight was about to become considerably heavier.
Instagram launched in 2010 and just took off. It didn't merely adopt the square format—it mandated it. Every photo, regardless of what you actually captured, would be cropped to a perfect square. An apparently arbitrary, limiting choice would become the visual language of an entire generation. For Instagram, the decision was largely practical– square photos displayed better in a feed on a mobile phone, and created a uniform ‘grid’ that looked clean, no matter what was in the photos.
Needless to say, the square thrived. For the more conscious photographers, it demanded different compositional thinking than the rectangular frames we'd grown up with. For the emerging legions of tap & share warriors, it just… was. There was no retraining or conscious craft needed.
Then, Instagram became a behemoth, and just like that, the square format had become the global visual vernacular in less than half a decade.
Fashion photographers, travel bloggers, architects, product designers and food stylists were all thinking ‘square’. As is often the case in creativity, the constraint had become the catalyst.
In choosing the square, Instagram was solving a user interface challenge. But knowingly or (more likely) unwittingly, it was also performing a kind of aesthetic archaeology, unearthing a relic that had been largely forgotten in consumer photography.
Rewind to nearly a century ago.
“The square is a very intellectual format. It’s very difficult to do anything with it" _Ernst Haas
Visionary Squares
The product challenge for Instagram echoed an engineering problem that forms the square format’s photographic origin story.
In 1929, the German camera manufacturer Rollei introduced the Rolleiflex, a twin-lens reflex camera. The design had one lens for viewing and another for capturing the image; rotating the entire camera between portrait and landscape orientations was cumbersome. The square format offered an elegant solution- it needed no rotation.
This technical constraint had profound compositional implications. As photographer Ernst Haas supposedly said, "The square forces you to concentrate on the subject. There are no distractions of deciding whether something looks better horizontally or vertically." (‘Supposedly’, because versions of such a quote are attributed to Haas, but I can’t find a source for it; let’s just say, he is ‘said to have said it’; and it is quite appropriate to the format, and his use of it).
What was spurred by a practical necessity rather than a stylistic choice, was to gain significant artistic import in the decades to come. The square remained primarily a professional format through the 1930s and 40s, but the launch of the Hasselblad 500C in 1957 elevated it to legendary status.
Timing was key. A post-war boom in the Western world spanned advertising, fashion and photojournalism, creating an unprecedented demand for high-quality images.
As photographers like Diane Arbus, Irving Penn and Richard Avedon used Hasselblad and Rolleiflex cameras to create some of their definitive works, the format grew to be associated with high-end commercial and fashion photography through the 1960s and 70s.
Photographers were using the square's inherent balance; its geometry made every direction hold equal weight. This was in contrast to portrait (vertical) and landscape (horizontal) modes, which forced a subjective choice. The format also inherently lent itself to “non-hierarchical framing”, a compositional approach that avoids placing undue emphasis on any single element within the frame. This approach became linked also to bringing ‘dignity’ to the portraiture subject (a nuanced and fascinating alleyway to meander down some time).
The symmetry of the square also aligned with modernist ideals of the era, becoming associated with both high fashion and documentary work. A perception formed that shooting square meant you were a ‘serious’ photographer.
This paradox—the square as both constraint and liberation—would resurface repeatedly throughout the format's history.
"We realised that if we made the images square, it would be one less thing to worry about. You could take the photo and not worry about rotating your phone or whether to shoot in portrait or landscape" _Kevin Systrom, founder of Instagram
Democratisation & Decline
While visionary artists and Hasselblad were cementing the square's association with professional excellence, another company was reaching for the other end of the spectrum- making it accessible to everyone.
Polaroid's introduction of instant photography had already revolutionised how people thought about images; the 1972 launch of the SX-70 brought the square format into everyday life. These iconic white-bordered square images became the lasting visual shorthand for immediacy and ‘authenticity’—characteristics that would later also become central to Instagram's appeal.
Polaroid accomplished something remarkable: it ‘liberated’ the square format for the masses without diminishing its cultural cachet. Artists like Andy Warhol embraced the format precisely because it combined immediacy with artistic legitimacy.
Yet, outside these iconic white borders, the square format began a slow long decline into the 1980s and 90s. The rise of 35mm cameras with their 3:2 aspect ratio made rectangular images the consumer standard; TV and computer displays standardized on rectangular formats; print media started to prefer horizontal layouts matching page designs. Perhaps most fundamentally, there was a growing recognition that rectangular formats better matched human binocular vision—we see the world more widely than we do squarely. (This also underpins the lasting preference for 16:9 or landscape formats for creating & watching films).
By some point in the 90s, the square format had become a deliberate anachronism— ‘arty’ photographers signalling seriousness, or medium format enthusiasts maintaining a tradition.
A picture means I know where I was every minute. That's why I take pictures. It's a visual diary.” _Andy Warhol
Full Circle
Sheer nostalgia played a part in the square's digital revival, but it was the need to find a solution to contemporary problems that shaped it.
When Instagram made the square mandatory, it was a reaction also to something fundamental about digital images: unlike prints, which can exist in isolation, they typically appear alongside other images. The square created a consistent grid where no single image dominated just by virtue of its ‘orientation’. It was perfect for the mosaic nature of social media browsing.
This return to the square was largely a software decision; the world of filters ushered in by the likes of Hipstamatic and Instagram itself, also allowed it to be powered with an aesthetic weight. I wonder if in a digital environment where images were becoming increasingly disposable, the square format also helped them feel more considered, more meaningful? For a while, at any rate.
The square carried associations referencing the high-end tradition of Hasselblad, and the democratic immediacy of Polaroid. It felt both prestigious and accessible—a balance which Instagram made its sweet spot.
At the same time, the constraint imposed by the app meant people (most people) stopped worrying about format, and focused on the content.
Across these eras, in its perfect balance of height and width, the square has simultaneously been timeless and timely, felt aged and contemporary, been both a constraint and a catalyst of creativity.
~ · ~
The square format images entered our world courtesy of technological demands, gained cultural weight through aesthetic vision and social context. Once it faded away, it was again technology that brought it back. This cyclical journey inevitably meant the square would be beaten out of shape again. Or would it?
I’ll look at that, and some other cultural nuggets around the square's existence beyond a camera lens, in a follow-up to this essay.
2. Friday Find: You Got This
The brand with three stripes has had the “You Got This” campaign going since last year. It has been their stake in the ground for supporting athletes, and dissolving negative pressure; moving to a more human, empathetic and emotive space from ‘Impossible Is Nothing’. I find it a nice offset to Nike’s ‘win at all costs/ winning is everything’ approach.
It's important to have someone in your corner. Then you can be that someone, for someone else. And like that, belief passes on, becoming something incredible.
The 2025 spot released recently, uses The Velvet Underground‘s oddly cute track, ‘I’m Sticking With You’, to gently heighten the emotive feel. ‘You Got This’ seems to move now to an even more positive take, bringing into focus the incredible role played by those who support athletes- coaches, friends, parents and others on the sidelines, just before a game, with the doubt, or in the euphoria, or after the disappointment. It is a view that resonates deeply with both my life, and worldview.
The spot features regular athletes as well as celebrities- Nick Maddox, best friend of NBA player Anthony Edwards; Rocafonda 304, the community that is home to footballer Lamine Yamal; kids from Sant Pere de Ribes, the hometown of footballer and Ballon d'Or winner Aitana Bonmatí, and others.
In India, Adidas found a way to pull this off with the Indian cricketers, ahead of the ICC Champions Trophy. Its a different mood, but the vibe (and the song) is the same- you got this, bro.
This comes as part of a wider initiative; as the brand also released insights from a new global study of over 12,000 athletes across 24 countries, uncovering the ‘Sideline Effect’, as the campaign aims to “help motivate everyone to be a positive influence on every pitch, track and court. We set out to create a campaign to highlight how the everyday actions of those in and surrounding the game can be the difference between a young athlete showing up on the starting line or dropping out.”
3. Buy Now!
The trailer for this Netflix documentary a few months back excited those of us who are conscious of the endless stream of consumerism that much of life has become. We are assaulted by visual, audio, cultural and social stimuli that are hard to escape; the vast majority of these egging us to buy more, do more, get more.
I finally watched Buy Now: The Shopping Conspiracy, and enjoyed most of it (except when the sheer madness of it suggests that some regular head-shaking pessimism is called for). The film is entirely focussed on the modern corporation’s unwavering fixation on consumption & growth, and its clever machinations to put keep society on this treadmill of commercial intake.
The creative mechanics are striking, not how you might expect a topic like this might be portrayed. The main conceit- the film is actually a training video for corporations. Each chapter is like a module, expected to help you (the company) understand how to maximise profitability and growth. We are guided through these modules by an AI voice, encouraging you and preparing you for what's coming next. There's a dissonance in knowing you are not really the audience of the conceit, but as the actual audience, you are still somehow being sucked into the premise anyway.
Visually provocative, and sometimes stunning; with a lot of dramatic, no-holds barred computer-generated imagery showcasing the scale of production, the scale of consumption, and the scale of waste. Vibrant colours, multiple fonts, eclectic typography; all ensure you don’t get too comfortable, which is appropriate- because the topic is anything but.
Some might find some of these devices a bit gimmicky or even overly dramatic (they can be). Creative choices are infamously subjective, but I found them pretty clever in tackling a topic that could be dry and preachy. Instead, it is transformed into something bold and captivating in a very twisted sort of way.
Recommended watching.
4. Bond, Shaken Bond.
You’ve very likely heard that the James Bond franchise now entirely belongs to Amazon. Amazon bought the studio MGM around three years ago, but only now have 007’s long time stewards Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson (finally) ceded creative control. The payoff is reportedly around a cool billion dollars.
Have the bad guys finally won? After decades of taking down megalomaniacs with designs on the world, James Bond appears to have been bested by a bald man with far too much power.
Now here is a franchise that has been passionately shepherded by a small group of people (one family) with very distinct ideas around who Bond is, who he is not, and **what should and should not be done with the films. It has not been subject to creative by committee, nor to some auteur’s vision, nor to some number-crunched algorithmic play. All of this, proudly and unequivocally so.
But since 2021’s No Time To Die, we’ve had no meaningful update on the series. So now? Cue rampant speculation, optimism and apocalyptic scepticism. Who will be the new Bond? How will Amazon mess up build the franchise? How many spinoffs might we have? Is this the beginning of the end? Or is it a glorious new era? Will it join a line of grandly successful IPs? What would Ian Fleming and Albert Broccoli say?
Add To Queue
-watchlist, playlist, readlist- :: stuff on my radar
Juno, soundtrack from the film: nudged to it by the track you hear in the above Adidas commercial.
Zero Hour: Halfway through the taut-but-familiar new Netflix political/security thriller starring Robert de Niro as an ex-President of the US of A.
Masala Peanuts
(where I share stories or tidbits I find interesting).
Read: On February 25, over 1,000 artists released 'Is This What We Want?', a silent album in protest of planned changes to copyright AI laws planned by the UK government. An album of recordings of empty studios & performance spaces, it represents the effect the government proposals would have on musicians' livelihoods. The track list spells out a simple message: "The British Government Must Not Legalise Music Theft To Benefit AI Companies". Artists included Annie Lennox, Hans Zimmer, Riz Ahmed, Kate Bush, Yusuf/Cat Stevens, Tori Amoz, Max Richter and many others.
Read: “A trend used to represent a changing pattern of values, ideas and behaviors. Trends were emergent, transformative and semi-permanent. Trends are now viewed as fleeting moments, void of cultural meaning.” The case why brands must Escape The TikTokification Of Cultural Trends.
Read: Ashley Flowers hosts the second biggest podcast in the US. She has loved crime stories since childhood, and began Crime Junkie as a side project. Today her company is valued at $250 million. A good piece on her plans.
Off for a beverage!