Funhouse Vision

Funhouse Vision fly cameras over Paris, France. Cinematic work, and properties they were among the first here to shoot a virtual visit as one continuous move: over the roof, down the façade, in through a window and along the corridor, no cut.

Two words, one space. FUNHOUSE is set as a solid block of condensed capitals, letters locked together with no air between them, built the way a building is built. VISION is laid across it, larger, in blue, translucent where the two meet. Nothing moves aside to make room. The house stays where it is and the view goes over the top of it and through it, which is exactly what the camera does.

Below the name, the drone. It is drawn in one line: two rotor ellipses at the ends, a swept arc between them, the lens at the center. Read it a second time and it is a face, brow, eye, iris. Not a machine hovering, but something looking. The aperture blades are the only fine detail in the whole mark, and they earn the place: they say camera before the word does.

Two blues carry the colour, a steel where VISION crosses the black and a deep marine below it. No third colour anywhere. Aerial footage arrives already full of sky, stone, water and trees, and an identity that sits on top of it should not be competing for attention with the picture it is introducing.