Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Review. Show all posts

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Upcoming Posts and Other Musings

It's summer and things have been rather slow. While we wait for some excellent reviews of The Bindings of Trevor Jones, Tricks of the Trade by Jamie Kamph, and the catalog to Hello Hedi at 23 Sandy Gallery I offer this diversion.








It's summer, and what can be more seasonal than enjoying an excellent fermented beverage, in this case beer, especially when the label is designed by a well known graphic artist whose work some of us have had the honor to bind.


The beer, Bell's Two Hearted Ale, a nice play on the short story be Hemingway... The artist...? Ladislav Hanka, a friend of Jan Sobota and many others. His books Corn, County Survey, Scripta Naturae, and Opus Salvelinus were all bound for the 50 x 25 exhibit held at Southern Methodist University's Bridwell Library. Most recently Hanka published a memorial book, Remembering Jan Bohuslav Sobota, about his friend Jan Sobota that was bound by many of the same binders as in 50 x 25. You can see some of the bindings here. Hanka's archive is housed at Western Michigan University, also home to half of the 50 bindings in 50 x 25 - each binder bound two of the same title, with one going back to the artist...

Fishing is a large part of Hanka's life, often featured in his prints, and beautifully bound. So, open a Bell's Two Hearted Ale (if available in your area), crank up À la Poupée & the Chine-Collé's music, and take a look at this man's etchings.

Monday, February 2, 2015

The Spirit Books of Susan K. Gaylord

Susan Kapuscinski Gaylord. The Spirit Books. Newburyport, MA: Self-published, 2014. Available at Etsy for $20.

Reviewed by Velma Bolyard

The rich world of artists’ books encompasses so much work, from peculiar and fascinating ‘zines to amazing unique books, and all sorts of work in between. Each book made has purpose, each book is read in some way, each maker presents something to experience. As a maker and reader, I revel in the current variety and am always curious about seeing work that is new to me. Last April at the University of Southern Maine, Portland’s Book Arts Bazaar I had the pleasure of meeting Susan Kapuscinski Gaylord and spending a tiny bit of time looking a Spirit Book that she was showing. What I saw was stunning and made me want to spend more time with these pieces. Nothing had prepared me for the impact of “meeting” a Spirit Book. And this is why her new book The Spirit Books about this series is so generous, it gets you very close to these books the way you need to actually experience them. She’s added text that explains more about the making of each piece.

The Spirit Books begins with a sensitive and reflective introduction by Rosemary Noon. Noon writes, “The series claims mastery of a whole realm of knowledge outside language.” This rings true to me. Gaylord, a calligrapher, seems at ease with making wordless books, or rather books without words to frame experience while “reading” the piece. Marks on the pages are etched or sewn in a variety of ways, still missing are words. But the presence of many sorts of markings evokes meaning, feeling, contemplation, examination. The Spirit Books give the reader an insight into Gaylord’s thinking and process answering some questions while stimulating more.

Spirit Book #13: Hope Offering

In a brief and cogent artists statement about the body of work Gaylord writes: “Each page is a meditation that echoes nature with both repetition and variety.” I think she is completely correct here. Each book is intended to be a contemplative experience. I was surprised by the complex and at times subtle layers of meaning in the Spirit Books. Each Spirit Book is made from textural and earthy papers, with marks evolving from a variety of means; sewn beads, bits of twigs, seeds, plants, threads, wires, and patterns carefully composed for careful looking. They are meant to be displayed opened for viewing each in its own cradle or nest. This supporting structure is designed to fully compliment the book it supports. Further, the books appear as small alters of contemplation, meditations in fact. Gaylord achieves this by presenting each book as an important artifact, elevated to viewing by each one’s unique stage. The Spirit Books serves as a catalog of the series and is the next best thing to seeing a piece, you can get very close. The photography is clear and intimate, one sees the fibers lifting off the edges of pages, the gleam of an amber bead, the carefully placed stitches, or trimmed twigs delineating pages.

This modest book cataloging The Spirit Books series presents a grouping of 35 from the total of at least 73 books. Gaylord explains that the series remains fluid, sometimes she disbinds a book and re-composes it into another piece. Each Spirit Book is presented as a discrete contemplation placed in its own unique cradle, or nest, or one might even say alter built specifically to present and contain its book. On the verso page Gaylord names the book photographed on the recto. She describes the book including a few words about the making and naming of it. Gaylord wisely lets the photos present the books as singular objects. Her descriptions are sparse, but there is enough information to prompt thinking. Book number 1 is called Sewn Prayer and “it was named for the act of sewing which is considered a symbol of life and its temporal nature.” What The Spirit Books does so well is present a hint of the breadth of the series. It suggests how rich the visual and emotive experience of the Spirit Books series must be. In that busy, energetic marketplace of the Book Arts Bazaar, I wanted to stop and think about what was being offered. This book reminds me of stopping and looking.

SpiritBook #43: RenewedWisdom

I can imagine hiking in my own northern woods and coming upon a granite ridge face with a naturally occurring mossy niche, surprisingly holding a Spirit Book. I can imagine pausing, looking carefully, reading, and thinking this most appropriate. I can see that each page, each leaf, might echo the experience Gaylord is seeking to prompt. Alternatively, I can see an installation of many Spirit Books, in a space that is conducive to contemplation, with the books elevated and accessible so that you could look deeply into the architectural environments of each one while moving around them. Lacking the opportunity to see these books in person, or to act as a memento of this singular series, The Spirit Books by Susan Kapuscinski Gaylord is a fine alternative.

[Note: to view more of the Spirit Books online visit Susan K. Gaylord's site online]



Velma Bolyard teaches emotionally disturbed children in Potsdam, NY. She also teaches papermaking, book arts, and fiber arts workshops, often at her mill, Wake Robin Papers. She holds a BS Design, MS Teaching, with elementary, art, and special education certifications, and has studied fiber, paper and book arts in the US and Canada. In 2000 she received the Nell Mendell Scholarship for PBI (Paper and Book Intensive). She has shown her work in fiber, paper, and books for many years.

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Émigrés, The Transformation of Art Publishing in Britain

Anna Nyburg. Émigrés: The Transformation of Art Publishing in Britain. London: Phaidon Press, 2014. ISBN 0714867020. 288 pages.

Reviewed by Elizabeth Morris

Drawing upon her previous publication, From Leipzig to London: The Life and Work of the Émigré Artist Hellmuth Weissenborn, Anna Nyburg presents a broader view of the impact of émigré publishers, artists, and art historians upon the cultural landscape of Britain in Émigrés: The Transformation of Art Publishing in Britain. Although Émigrés contains a good deal of interesting information about the cultural background of émigrés, as well as deeply personal characterizations of these important figures, it should not be viewed as a thorough and scholarly publication.

The main purpose of the text serves to highlight the role of three publishing houses with Viennese roots, Phaidon, Adprint, and Thames & Hudson, and the paths of their founders through personal accounts and portrayals, with a heavy emphasis on the personal lives of Phaidon’s Béla Horovitz and Ludwig Goldscheider. While the first half of the text focuses on providing biographical information of noteworthy individuals in publishing from the first half of the 20th century, the latter half explores the outcome of publishing houses Phaidon and Thames & Hudson post-1950, with a brief chapter on Adprint, founded by Wolfgang Foges, and the concept of ‘book packaging.’

Interspersed within the first chapter of character ‘portraits’, the reader will find fundamental  information about the developmental elements and genius of émigré book design and production; however, the sparseness and organization of this material is such that it might easily be missed. Even when Nyburg makes key points about book design, the reader is left without an image to illustrate an example of these transformative interior layouts. For example, Nyburg writes “He was particularly skilled at choosing details: selecting and highlighting a corner from a painting or sculpture and cropping the photograph, producing a fresh and different image with a technique that was unusual at the time” (p.15), but fails to provide an example and does not give a date or time-frame for when this ‘new’ approach was employed.

Moving onwards, Nyburg provides some cultural background for the émigrés of Mitteleurope, and how their education and immersion in the Classics, Literature, and Art aided in their natural abilities for design and publishing; the emphasis is again placed on Phaidon’s Horovitz and Goldscheider, along with Walter and Eva Neurath of Thames & Hudson. Additionally, there is more contextual information of what life as a Jewish person in Nazi Germany was like through personal accounts of the countless difficult decisions and hardships that were encountered during the late 1930s.

Chapters 4 and 5, ‘Arrival and War: Publishing Émigrés in Britain’ and ‘A New Start: Phaidon and Art Publishing after the War’ add value and necessary context as the book becomes more descriptive and focused on the specific elements for the arrival of émigrés in Britain: how they were able to assimilate into British culture, the processes in place for registering as aliens and the tribunals, and the creative relationships that arose from being placed within internment camps, such as the Isle of Man. There were also personal anecdotes from émigrés on the discrimination they encountered from British citizens who were unemployed or unsure of their alliance to Germany, but also how they were able to assist in war efforts from creating ‘black’ propaganda to fire-watching duties.

Nyburg also discusses the influence and guidance that was provided by Zwemmer’s Bookshop and Gallery in London to both émigré and British publishers and citizens, as they created a physical and intellectual place for art education and connoisseurship. She also discusses the role of Teddy Schüller, who moved to London in 1932 and was a lifelong Anglophile, and his work in creating the Oxford Companion to Art, published by Oxford University Press. He relied on his network of German-speaking art historians, including E.H. Gombrich (The Story of Art published by Phaidon), to complete this work that was realized in the 1930s and finally published by 1970. The text, however, begins to take a more negative approach to discussing the difficulties in the relationship between Phaidon’s Horovitz and Sir Stanley Unwin, when Phaidon moved to independent ownership, resulting in severed ties between the two parties. Continuous personal instances of uncited and biased information detract greatly from the main mission of the book in providing a narrative of this much underrepresented topic.

Moving on to Chapter 6, ‘Between the Pages: Typography, Design and Illustration’, the reader is able to find the necessary and much-needed historical context of the publishing and book arts landscape pre-WWI that illuminates the cooperative and collaborative relationships between English and German publishers and artists. Nyburg describes the influential relationships of great artists and typographers such as William Morris, Eric Gill, Stanley Morison and Thomas James Cobden-Sanderson on key German artists and publishers like Anton Kippenberg, Rudolf Koch, and Karl Ernst Poeschel. Although this chapter illustrates key elements in the transformation of British publishing, Nyburg writes with a biased voice about how German contributions to the book arts outweigh those of the British. In doing so, Nyburg presents contradictory information, as British publishers did in fact work for and employ German typographers and designers before WWII, and continued to do so throughout the 20th century (p.109). She also notes several British publishers that were knowledgeable and trained in German book production and design, such as Oliver Simon, Sir Francis Meynell, Stanley Morison and Abram Games, despite also noting the lack of professional training in publishing and exposure to fine art for British culture; additionally, British publishing giant Penguin Books, headed by Allen Lane, is briefly discussed.

Nyburg writes that typography and overall book design became ever increasingly important and ‘essential’ for all German publishers and book designers throughout the first three decades of the 20th century, but that it was only bibliophiles and collectors who were concerned with these aspects in Britain; however, earlier in the same chapter (Chapter 6) Nyburg discusses the start and influence of art nouveau movements in each country at the end of the 19th century that led into the early 20th century, which drew upon the exchange of education and influence between key British figures with German counterparts, such as Anton Kippenberg, owner of Insel Verlag. In 1905, Kippenberg “was so determined to keep his books free from the over-the-top Germanic style that he employed English book designers and typographers such as Eric Gill” (p.102). Such contradictory statements, confused further by jumping continuously across periods of time, create an unclear narrative that leaves the reader with more questions than answers.

One of the more interesting portions of the book comes from Chapter 8, ‘The Rise and Fall of Adprint’ since it discusses the extremely innovative practice of ‘book packaging’ as it transformed the practice of art book publishing in Europe. Further, it explores advances in publishing with color images, collaborative work with Penguin Books, the significant Britain in Picture series, the diminishing power of Adprint, and in particular on the personal career of Wolfgang Foges and the bitter rivalry between Foges and Neurath. The final chapters move on to discuss the Neuraths of Thames & Hudson and touches upon many others of importance for image reproduction such as Jarrold of Norwich Printers. However, there is some confusion to be found within the personal narratives of second, third, and even fourth generational émigré family members from publishing giants on their cultural background and training. While some individuals, including Eva Neurath, believe that the advancements of the émigré publishers would have achieved notoriety regardless of geographical location, Nyburg argues that the success of Phaidon and Thames & Hudson in the latter half of the 20th century is due largely to the cultural values passed on from the émigrés as second, third and fourth generations acquired, operated and continued in the world of art book publishing in Britain. Richard Schlagman, who acquired Phaidon books, is described as saying, “…he questioned any notion of Phaidon’s Jewishness, saying that the tradition of culture often attributed to the Jews of ‘Mitteleuropa’ was more likely a product of central Europe itself’ (p. 187).

The most confusing aspects of the book lie within Nyburg’s negative stance on British culture, education and artistic efforts, as well as with the complete lack of design elements that are noted as being the transformational elements of art publishing (note: this book is published by Phaidon). Nyburg makes a series of criticisms of British culture and art, such as on p. 37, “In the visual arts, the only modernists who made their mark were Henry Moore and Ben Nicholson, in sculpture and painting respectively,” and education on p.211, ‘…the English working-class teenagers. Not only were they technically incompetent, unable to use a pencil or a brush correctly, but they were also embarrassed by the very notion of art other than as a form of technical reproduction.” Furthermore, she gives a disparaging portrayal of Sir Stanley Unwin throughout the latter portion of the book, who assisted Horovitz and Goldscheider in their personal and professional migration to England, despite Unwin taking on the responsibility for the personal safety and well-being of the émigrés for at least a decade (p.61-62).

What's more, the book is written in a manner that suggests the reader should have some prior knowledge of the subject, as well as with key figures of émigré publishing, writing and book design. Herman Ullstein, Jan Tschichold, Dr. Franz Leppmann, Ruth Rosenberg, Fritz Landshoff, Walter Landauer, Henrich Hauser, Bermann Fischer, and Peter Suhrkamp… are all mentioned within two pages (p.52-53) without any clarification as to how these individuals fit within the overall narrative, a common approach found throughout the text.  Although they may provide singular, tangible examples of a point Nyburg is trying to convey, it only adds further confusion as to whom they are and the role they played within the transformation of British art publishing. Short biographical information as an added appendix would have been particularly helpful for readers to refer to as they navigate and conceptualize the turbulence of these times and events.

In terms of book design, the text is extremely limited in images and illustrative examples of the transformation of art publishing; the majority of color images included are of book covers and very few page spreads. Other images interspersed within the text are black and white photographic reproductions of the émigrés and their family members, serving more as an archival exploration of the families instead of art publishing. Nyburg ironically groups together the core color illustrations of art books in the middle of the text using color plates, a common practice in art books before the evolutionary practices of Phaidon, Adprint, and Thames and Hudson (p.151). What Nyburg praises for the transformation of art book publishing by the émigrés is completely contradicted by the design and layout of this text, which is meant to detail and explore this specific topic. One highlight of the text is the appendices, which provide published books by Phaidon by year from 1932-55 and a list of books published by Thames & Hudson from 1950-1959. Additionally, the book boasts a rich bibliography of resources that will aid anyone in further research on this topic.

Ultimately, there is not enough information on the actual transformation of publishing in technical terms, particularly for image and photographic reproduction which played an immense role in the art publishing landscape, and an overabundance of information about the personal lives of the émigrés, including that of second and third generational émigré family members. The book would have been a richer resource had the technical processes and design elements been described in greater detail, and if Nyburg would have defined what constitutes an ‘art book’ in the transformation of the publishing landscape from the onset, the overall goal of the text may have been more clearly elucidated to the reader.

It could be argued that rather than the émigré publishers transforming the landscape of British publishing for art books, that the transformation lies within the collaborative relationships and exchanges between émigré and British art historians, publishers, artists and designers that were in place pre-WWI, and continue to the present day. Due to the Anschluss, many citizens of Central Europe were forced to leave their homes and find refuge in other countries, Britain being one of the most central. It was these circumstances which have led to the creation and foundation of British art publishing in the 20th century, and the ability for these relationships to prosper for over a century should be applauded.




Beth Morris is Assistant Librarian at the Yale Center for British Art, Reference Library and Archives, where she started a preservation program with in-house book repairs for the collection. She holds an MLIS from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill where she completed her thesis on artists' book collections. Additionally she holds a BA in Fine Art from Elon University.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Finishing in Hand Bookbinding, a new edition

Herbert and Peter Fahey. Finishing in Hand Bookbinding: A reprint in facsimile of the 1951 edition with a new Introduction by Alan Isaac and Foreword by Maureen Duke. Oxford: Published by Alan Isaac Rare Books with Maureen Duke, 2014.

Edition limited to 500 copies. Hardbound, purple cloth, gilt. 227 x 152mm, portraits frontis, xviii, 82p, vi.5  mono. plates. 2 additional color plates.  £29. To order go to Alan Isaac Rare Books, or for those outside the UK via email at info@aibooks.co.uk.

Reviewed by Samuel Feinstein

Those interested in the book arts, especially bookbinders, will be grateful for the reprinting of Finishing in Hand Bookbinding this new edition, and each time at a different stage in my development of finishing skills. I was fortunate that this book was available to me for two years during my training at the North Bennet Street School in Boston. Now, with an affordable edition available, the knowledge contained within is much more accessible to those interested in learning, those wanting to review, and those wanting to further broaden their finishing practices. Regardless, these writings are useful for almost all levels of finishing. I would love to see this reprinting be the catalyst of a renewed conversation about hand-tooling, or, more than that, a rallying call inspiring enthusiasm for the use of this decorative technique.

The Faheys make an argument, carried throughout the book, as to why hand tooling is best in finishing. Unlike flat stamping, usually by machine, or even foil tooling, hand tooling using gold leaf is the most reflective and lively type of decoration; this is quintessential to everything that follows. Hand tooling imparts “life”, as the Faheys say, “by various tools reflecting the light and gold at slightly different angles and planes,” as opposed to the monotonous effect given by plate-stamped designs (Fahey 19). To those that see and handle them, hand-tooled bindings have an inherent allure created not only by the sumptuousness of the materials, but by the play of light reflecting off of the gold and the wonder it provokes. Dr. Marianne Tidcombe in the introduction to Twenty-Five Gold-Tooled Bindings wrote, “Gold-tooling is the most visible and striking of all the traditional techniques, but it has been less in evidence with each passing decade” (Tidcombe 5). Although written in 1997, it is hard to deny that gold-tooled bindings are much less prevalent than they once were.

The reprinted edition is a flat back case binding in full purple cloth, sewn, with plain endpapers. “FINISHING” appears on the front cover in gold foil stamping, a subtle tip of the hat to the Faheys’ belief that the covers should have a conceptual correlation to the title page. There is also an image of a hand holding a decorative finishing tool, while the spine has the name of the name of the book and authors’ last name foil-stamped in a sans-serif type-face. This facsimile of the 1951 edition is slightly smaller than the original printing. There is a new frontispiece showing Herbert and Peter Fahey at work, two new color plates and, best of all, a new Introduction and Foreword.

Alan Isaac’s Introduction to the new edition acquaints one with a brief background of the Faheys. For me, having only known about the Faheys from the first edition of this book, Isaac really brings them to life: their beginnings, their first forays into the world of bookbinding, their development of skills, the many places they studied in and people they studied with, and their legacy.

Maureen Duke’s Foreword focuses on updating some of the aspects of the processes the Faheys used. She says it beautifully: “Our knowledge concerning the deterioration of bindings has been advanced by those studying book conservation, and which has added considerately to the breadth of our understanding and affected the way in which certain procedures are done” (Duke xv). A few of the items she addresses are the advantages of brass type, the use of toxic solvents in neutralizing the oil used to hold the gold leaf in place on the leather, and the use of asbestos in tool handles. She also notes the development of shellac-based glaire, which is better suited to beginners than egg glaire.

The Faheys’ manual of 1951 is, in part, a response to what they felt to be a lack of more “modern” style finishing instruction the English manuals of the time, which had sections on finishing. The manuals in use focused mainly on period style tooling, and many were superficial in their instructions. The Faheys’ manual not only is much clearer about the process, but also incorporates their personal styles in design and concept.

The act of finishing is meditative. Losing a sense of self while tooling for days, weeks, or months, when all that exists is the design, the gold, the book, and the tool, is such a difficult thing to describe. This book articulates well many of the “feelings” experienced with finishing that are not easily translatable into words. The Faheys take their time in explaining the processes in depth, and will sometimes come back to an idea another place in the book to further expound upon it.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention their first instructor, Ignatz Wiemeler of Germany (1895 – 1952). Wiemeler helped in the development of their own philosophy, in both appearance and concept. His influence on the Faheys’ style is readily apparent, especially in the use of line. Wiemeler was in harmony with the Arts and Crafts Movement, the belief in using the best materials, sewing on raised cords when the paper suited that technique, having the binding’s decoration harmonize with the content, and taking the best of centuries-old techniques to improve the bookbinding of his time. This excerpt from his article Bookbinding, Old and New gives a general feeling of his philosophy:
A well-made book must be beautiful, in each stage of its development, if the finished book should be convincing. The natural beauty of the whole and of each single part cannot be premeditated and executed, but must be borne in mind along with the work. It cannot be seen alone, but more than that, it must be felt by touch of hand. It is the sum total of exactitude and care for every detail, of the harmony of the size of the book and the thickness of its covers with the width of its edges; in short, it is the result of inspired work (Wiemeler 159).

Weimeler had an ardent belief that the use of lettering was not simply for identification of the book, but an integral part of the design. This is something that the Faheys incorporated into their own philosophy, and it is easily noted when looking at their bindings.

The Faheys explain what is meant by “finishing” in their Introduction: “The term “finishing” is applied to all work done after the book has been forwarded. The finisher must decide what lettering and decoration are to be put on the book. This includes tooling of the patterns in blind or with metal, onlay and inlay work, polishing and varnishing” (Fahey 7). They prefer simple designs rather than complex. Not necessarily “less is more”, as is seen in some of their designs with large amounts of tooling, but rather using finishing tools in a way that is not exceedingly complex. They are practical about this, both from a design standpoint and craftsman standpoint. As they say, "A finisher must make things easy for himself" (Fahey 12).

The Faheys describe at length the tools used in finishing. I can only speak from my own standpoint, but some of the terminology when referring to the different types of tools may be a product of the book being, as Maureen Duke says it in the Foreword, “of its time” (Duke xv). One such possible example would be the use of the term “straight line tool” (Fahey 40) when referring to a line tool for tooling on a spine. The difficulty with that term is that there is a distinction between straight line tools (or pallets) used across the spine, what I would call a “flat-faced pallet”, and straight line tools used on the boards, which have a slight curve to it, to ensure even pressure throughout the impression. I would suggest John Mitchell’s An Introduction to Gold Finishing, pages 77-91, as a wonderful source explaining the different kinds of tools and their usage. One other marvelous source on finishing tools is Tom Conroy’s Bookbinders’ Finishing Tool Makers 1780-1965, which, in addition to the wealth of information on finishing tool makers, has an in depth Introduction that identifies the different parts of finishing tools and discusses how they were made.

The Faheys’ finishing process is straightforward and explained clearly. In addition to the order of operations, they write at length about the “why” for each step. The basic procedure involves the following steps: making up a template on strong, thin paper using tools and a stamp pad; securing the template in place on the leather and tooling through it; removing the template and tooling again; building up a blind impression with several strikes of the tool until the impression has been tooled with a heated tool and moisture in the leather (but surface-dry). The leather is then given a vinegar wash, and tooled with a warm tool when surface-dry; the impressions are penciled in with vinegar, then given a first coat of glaire before the vinegar has completely dried, and a second coat of glaire is applied after the first has dried. While the glaire is drying, the leaf is made ready, cut to the size necessary for the given tool; the tool is heated to the correct temperature, is given a slight amount of oil with which the gold is picked up, and the impression is tooled with the leaf. “In the finest bindings, gold is put on several times to be sure it is solid and brilliant” (Fahey 51). This order of operations can be applied to most gold/leaf tooling, with the exception of water impervious leathers. Variants for different kinds of leather, such as calf, are explained.

Although their preference in transferring the leaf into the impression is to pick it up on the tool, they also explain the process of all-over tooling: glairing the entire area to be tooled, laying leaf onto the leather with grease or oil on the leather to keep the gold in place, tooling through the gold, and removing the excess gold with a solvent. There should be no extraneous movements, as these lead to mistakes. Every time the tool is picked up, it should with intention and with purpose. “Tooling should be done firmly and decisively—any additional pressure and prolonged dwelling beyond the first impression does not help and may harm through too much depth, twisting of tool, and breaking the gold” (Fahey 51).

The gilding size the Faheys use is egg glaire. In 1951 Fixor was already being used in France, and shellac-based glaire was being developed and used in England during and after the Second World War, when eggs were a limited resource. But the Faheys are writing about their particular practice. Nowadays there are proponents of each: shellac-glaire for its ease of use and convenience (especially helpful on water-impervious leathers, as well as in developing skills since it eliminates the complications of “open-time” with egg glaire), egg glaire for its brilliance and ease in cleaning impressions. In addition to blind tooling and tooling with leaf, they also have a chapter on inlay and onlay, and give several different onlaying practices other than their preferred method. Tooling on different materials is also discussed, including parchment and cloth.

Five black-and-white plates of Fahey bindings are included at the back of the book along with a small description of each; these were present in the original printing. The unifying concept between book and binding is explained, revealing more of their philosophy. Their use of line is prevalent in each plate, as is their use of the book’s title, but both in different ways. The two new color plates in the front do not have descriptions from the authors, but are higher quality printings and showcase the beauty of gold on leather, and the effect of Fahey bindings.

The Faheys wrote this book to help enrich the binding community by contributing their particular finishing processes. No doubt, other finishing manuals and books describe more modern designs from the time period. One is Jules Fache’s La Dorure et la Decoration des Reliures, published in 1954. He was an absolute master, and though many might not know his name, almost everyone knows one of the designers for whom he worked: Paul Bonet. And there are others, such as Emilio Brugalla’s Tres Ensayos sobre el Arte de la Encuadernacion (1945), that talk about tooling in a more modern manner, in addition to traditional designs. The problem with these other texts for us is often the language barrier.

The use of hand-tooling in bookbinding captures and illustrates the magnificence of the materials. The Faheys continued to explore such tooling, which became an expression of their own artistry. They, here, have written a manual based on their extensive knowledge attained through fastidious work and discipline. When practiced, it provides an excellent framework for one’s finishing methods. It also is a great fount from which from which one can apply certain aspects of the Faheys’ process. This book stands as a treatise of utilizing hand-tooling to make beautiful and creative bindings.



Bibliography:
  • Brugalla, Emilio. Tres Ensayos Sobre el Arte de la Ecuadernacion. Madrid: Ollero & Ramos, 2000. (Originally published: 1945)
  • Conroy, Tom. Bookbinders’ Finishing Tool Makers 1780-1965. New Castle, DE: The Oak Knoll Press, The Plough Press, 2002.
  • Duke, Maureen. Foreward to Finishing in Hand Bookbinding.
  • Fache, Jules. La Dorure et la Decoration des Reliures. Paris: Chez L’Auteur,1954.
  • Fahey, Herbert and Peter. Finishing In Hand Bookbinding. Alan Isaac Rare Books with Maureen Duke. Oxford, 2014
  • Isaac, Alan. Introduction to Finishing in Hand Bookbinding.
  • Mitchell, John. An Introduction to Gold Finishing. Edited and Designed by Nolan Watts. Worthing, Sussex, UK: The Standing Press 1995 and 2005.
  • Tidcombe, Marianne. Introduction to Twenty-Five Gold-Tooled Bindings, An International Tribute to Bernard Middleton’s Recollections. Edited by Marianne Tidcombe, with an essay on “The Use of Gold in Bookbinding” by Bernard C. Middleton. New Castle, DE: Oak Knoll Press 1997.
  • Wiemeler, Ignatz. “Bookbinding, Old and New”. Translated from the German by Peter Mueller-Munk and Hellmut Lehmann-Haupt. The Dolphin, A Journal of the Making of Books. New York: Limited Editions Club, 1933: 146-160.



Samuel Feinstein trained formally at the North Bennet Street School program where he studied under Jeff Altepeter and Martha Kearsley. Since graduating in 2012 he has been in private practice creating fine bindings, luxury clamshell boxes, new bindings in period style, and gold finishing for other binders. He is an avid proponent of tooled-bookbindings, and he teaches occasionally. His work can be seen on his website www.SamuelFeinsteinBookbinding.com or in more detail on his blog: www.SamuelFeinstein.wordpress.com

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

InsideOUT, an exhibition of contemporary bindings of private press books

InsideOUT, contemporary bindings of private press books. Jeanette Koch (ed) with photographs by Paul David Ellis. Designer Bookbinders, 2014. 80 pp with full color throughout. GBP15.00 + sh.

An exhibition catalog review by Amy Borezo 

The recent exhibit InsideOUT, organized by Designer Bookbinders, showcases the work of 59 binders from the UK and the US each of whom completed a design binding of a text published by one of nine fine presses. The culminating works are an instance of eating one's cake and having it, too. These are one-of-a-kind pieces of art that illustrate the collaborative nature of the field of book art, with years of mastering one's craft on display on both the inside and outside of the book. Designer Bookbinders does a great service to the field as a whole in creating exhibitions like this one.

The 80pp full color catalog for the exhibition is expertly designed and organized, with images of the fine press texts acting as a subtle backdrop to the images of each binding. The bindings are artfully arranged on the white of the page, without a visual bounding box, only a slight shadow at the very bottom of the cover to indicate its three dimensionality. Detail shots of the books highlight a particular structural or design element. Bindings are grouped according to press, which allows for bindings of the same title to be shown alongside one another, giving the viewer insight into the quality of the writing and illustrations contained within, as well as the creative process of the binders.

A successful design binding should interpret the text to be bound in an original and visually compelling way while showing the style and technical skill of the individual binder. There are too many examples of successful design bindings in this catalog and exhibit to call out each one individually. However, there are a few here that directly illustrate the project of the exhibition and which display other characteristics that are of interest to me personally.

The three bindings for the Arion Press Journey Round My Room by Xavier de Maistre, are compelling in their similarity of interpretation, which speaks to the strength of the writing in conveying its message and to the publisher in communicating this message in its choice of layout, typeface, color, and accompanying imagery. The text, originally written in 1790, is an autobiographical account of a young officer imprisoned in a single room and who takes to describing in specific detail the voyages he takes in this confined space, both in body and mind. In the Arion edition, the text is accompanied by hazy photographs of objects in a room by architect Ross Anderson.

Journey Round My Room, binding by Annette Friedrich


All three binders of this text—Annette Friedrich, Jo Bird, and Haein Song—chose to represent the work with abstract imagery. The colors on all three design bindings are very similar, in the rose and tan color range, communicating to the viewer that these hues must be referenced in the writing itself. Annette Friedrich's book is bound in a light tan goatskin with tooling of precise and subtle markings in a variety of pigmented and metallic foils. The scale, color, and placement of the delicate dots, dashes, crosses, and arcs seem both improvisational and studied, representing the physical and mental wanderings of the main character. The outer bounds of the book cover smartly act as the visual boundaries of the room. Haein Song's binding is comparable in design using tan goatskin and similar markings, yet instead of tooling, these markings are thinly pared, irregularly shaped, feathered pieces of off-white leather onlay. They read as ghosts of footsteps in a room, yet are described as being reflections of light. The subtle shift in scale from foreground to background of these pieces creates a sense of depth, which is pleasing to the eye. Jo Bird's binding is covered with a series of small, carbon-tooled, irregular spirals arranged in a grid to illustrate the confined yet varying path of the main character about the room. In all three of these bindings, the bookbinder truly responded to the text and created a work that adds to the perception of a reader/viewer.

Steel Horizon, binding by Stephen Conway


Stephen Conway created two bindings for the texts of different presses. These bindings both used simple yet bold design elements and the inherent beauty of the covering materials to great effect. The design for Steel Horizon, a collection of poems by Jonathan Wonham about his time on a North Sea oil rig, published by Incline Press, is a checkerboard grid of panels alternating in dark grey goatskin and figured vellum. While a viewer may expect to see a binding with a long horizontal line as a design element for any text that contains the word “horizon”, Conway goes one step further, evoking an ominous feeling appropriate to the poems contained within. The dark grey goatskin panels are arranged to create a sense of enclosure as both horizontal and vertical lines visually lock into one another creating a cross, cross-hair, compass, bars, a window. He reinforces this effect by tooling horizontal and vertical lines in silver onto the goatskin panels. The mottled off-white vellum panels read like a leaden sky as they alternate with the dark grey. The corners of the panels are riveted into place, an industrial element that creates another subtle visual cue giving the reader/viewer a very real sense of place.

His other binding for Britten's Aldeburgh, published by Whittington Press, uses the same design elements of goat skin panels and figured vellum. The figured vellum is the off-white backdrop to a series of horizontal rectangular black goatskin onlays, stretching across the spine from back to front cover. The horizontal panels are tooled with gold horizontal lines. Conway uses visual repetition to great effect as the black and gold lines repeat down the cover from head to tail, calling to mind waves or a somewhat bleak landscape that is seen again and again. These lines also reference musical notation and the work of the composer Benjamin Britten, on whose walks around the Suffolk coastline this book is based. The natural isolated areas of darker pigmentation on the figured vellum are used expertly on the front and back covers at the very edges of the boards, again evoking the sky and gathering clouds. Conway has a very strong individual style and his technical skill is impeccable, but he does not allow his visual sensibility to overshadow the text—he honors it with his interpretation.

Bicycle Diaries, binding by Hannah Brown


Two exuberant bindings by Hannah Brown and Nicky Oliver show a less formal approach to design binding, yet are both successful. Embroidery on bindings dates back many centuries and lends a warmth and intimacy to books that is evident in Brown's work. In her design binding for the Bicycle Diaries, published by Midnight Paper Sales, the viewer is invited to look down on a city sidewalk scene of pigeons and a bicycle. This pictorial rendering has a three dimensional, hyperreal quality that completely transforms the materials she is working with. The three dimensionality is enhanced by a wash of acrylic paint used underneath the embroidery. The text is about the author Richard Goodman's journey through New York City on the day of September 11th.

Lost and Found, binding by Nicky Oliver

Hannah Brown's interpretation of the text places us there with the author, unable to look at the most common city scene in quite the same way ever again. Nicky Oliver uses a painterly, unconventional approach to design binding. Her binding for Lost and Found published by Whittington Press is an expressive burst of color, line, and motion. She has a distinct style that shows layers and layers of work with leather dyes and decorative tooling. Her dynamic use of the entire cover as her canvas creates a visually compelling composition that draws the viewer in.

Circus, binding by Donald Glaister

Another binding of note is Donald Glaister's interpretation of Circus by Shanty Bay Press. His masterful technique combines a number of traditional and non-traditional materials to illustrate the larger-than-life experience of the circus. The tent on the cover appears to bust open and overtake the binding, partially covering the exquisitely tooled title on the spine of the book. His work shows humor, skill, and an artful engagement with the conventions of design binding.

All of the other bindings not mentioned here are worthy of their own examination and I only wish time and space allowed for me to write about them. I am honored to take this tour through the exhibition, courtesy of the fantastic accompanying catalog. I highly recommend this catalog to anyone interested in design binding.

The Exhibition was on display in the Layton Room Gallery at St Bride Foundation, London, 15 May to 22 August 2014.

Venues in the United States are:
Houghton Library, Harvard, MA: 11 September - 13 December 2014
Minnesota Center for Book Arts, Minneapolis: 10 January - 28 March 2015
Bonhams, New York: 10-19 April 2015
San Francisco Center for the Book, California: 6 June - 5 July 2015

The exhibition was organized by Lester Capon, Stephen Conway, Simon Eccles, Sayaka Fukuda, Peter Jones, and Jeanette Koch. 

For more information and to order a catalog visit Designer Bookbinders' website.



Amy Borezo Amy is an artist, bookbinder, and the proprietor of Shelter Bookworks,  a bookbinding studio in Western Massachusetts.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Playing with Pop-ups: The Art of Dimensional, Moving Paper Designs

Helen Hiebert. Playing with Pop-ups: The Art of Dimensional, Moving Paper Designs.  Beverly, MA: Quarry Books, 2014. ISBN 1592539084. 144 pages. $24.99.

Reviewed by Suzy Morgan

I love pop-up books. I collect pop-up books:  my family still gives them to me as birthday and holiday presents, even though I am a grown adult. I work in a library with a substantial collection of pop-up books, and I am quick to tell anyone who will listen that I have gotten to hold and play with an original Meggendorfer pop-up book. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when I was asked to review Helen Hiebert’s new book, Playing With Pop-Ups. A passing observer would probably remark that I was “elated” at the prospect of doing such a review.

Teaching the art of the pop-up is difficult, just like any how-to book about bookbinding, because it challenges the author to describe 3-D concepts in a 2-D format. Many pop-up structures function with a front-end and a back-end structure, just like a website: the viewer almost always only sees the front-end result, and the back-end support is not very apparent except to the experienced reader. I’ve looked at many a damaged pop-up book and wondered, “How on EARTH did they make this?” while trying to fit two parts of a broken whole back together unsuccessfully.  Helen Hiebert’s approach to this essential problem with teaching these complicated structures is a combination of providing templates to practice on, and a wealth of concisely illustrated instructions.



The book begins with a very brief history of pop-ups, a commentary on the state of pop-up arts today, an interesting glimpse into the production of a commercially published pop-up book, and overview of the basic pop-up terminology, tools, and tricks of the trade. I particularly enjoyed the description of the production line process of a commercially published pop-up, myself. Each different kind of fold and cut used in the following project instructions was clearly illustrated with a nice photograph and a well-written description. Hiebert also provides a list of recommended tools, as well as alternatives for some tools – like using a paperclip or the back of a knife instead of a bone folder to fold or score paper. This is a nice touch that makes the craft more accessible and promotes the kind of “creative reuse” so endemic to bookbinding.



However, in my opinion, the real genius of Hiebert’s book is the templates she provides for each project. These are pages in the book that are meant to be photocopied onto the paper of your choice, and then you just follow the dotted, dashed, and solid lines with bonefolder, knife, and glue, to create the pop-up. The first three projects are termed “Pop-up Warm-ups,” and are meant to familiarize the budding paper-engineer with the basic tenants of pop-up structure. The projects that follow increase in difficulty, but provide a nicely diverse range of different types of structures and themes.  These include a pop-up city skyline, a Valentine’s card, paper earrings, a tunnel book, and a volvelle with six slots. Our conservation lab intern and I spent a happy afternoon completing one of the projects using the templates. It’s really a no-brainer way of teaching the structure, as it removes the risk of beginner mistakes such as mis-measuring; each part of the template is clearly labeled with different lines for cuts, mountain folds, or valley folds. The other wonderful thing about the templates is that many of them are blank or simple enough that you could easily customize them or slightly modify them to create an original work. In my opinion, the templates get the point across very effectively and leave very little confusion about how they should work.



The final section of the book is devoted to a beautifully photographed gallery of current-day pop-up book artists and their work. Seeing these artist’s amazing work serves as inspiration to think creatively about your own future projects, as well as a visual bibliography of pop-up books to seek out in your local library or bookstore. As a collector of pop-up books, it was reaffirming to see books from my own library represented and to feel that kindred spark of passion for the art. In other words, “We like the same pop-up books!” Hiebert’s book is a solid addition to the library of any beginner or intermediate paper engineer, and is a welcome complement to other pop-up book manuals, such as Carol Barton’s The Pocket Paper Engineer series or David Carter and James Diaz’s The Elements of Pop-Up.



Suzy Morgan is a 2009 graduate of the School of Information at the University of Texas at Austin, where she received a certificate in advanced studies in conservation from the Kilgarlin Center for the Preservation of the Historic Record. She has had internships at Northwestern University, Syracuse University, the Cincinnati Art Museum and the Ringling Museum of Art. After working as the web developer at the Newberry Library and working in private practice as a book conservator and preservation consultant, she is now Preservation Specialist for the Arizona State Library.She is also the creator of The Multi-lingual Bookbinding/Conservation Dictionary Project: The goal of this project is to combine, in one place, all the known bookbinding and book conservation terminology, in as many languages as possible.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Limp Bindings from the Vatican Library


Langwe, Monica. Limp Bindings from the Vatican Library. Sollerön, Sweden: Monica Langwe, 2013. ISBN 9789163723797. 74 pages. 48,30€, ca$63.00 + s/h.

Reviewed by Henry Hébert

Monica Langwe’s most recent book is a more extensive follow-up to her previous work on limp bindings from the City Archives in Tallinn, Estonia (see Langwe, 2008). In Limp Bindings from the Vatican Library, the author cleaves to the same format, providing descriptions and diagrams for 11 historical bindings and includes a gallery of 11 contemporary works from international book artists. The Vatican Library is not the easiest institution to access, and from the author’s long list of acknowledgements, it is clear that a great deal of planning and coordination was required to make this project happen. With equal parts history, manual, and exhibit catalog, this volume is a delight to read and would be a welcome addition to any binder or bibliophile’s collection.

The book itself is beautifully designed, with clearly printed graphics and a typeface inspired by early Italian printing. The textblock is composed of 5 folded sections, sewn through the fold, with adhesive applied to the spine. The cover is a simple paper wrapper folded over the outermost leaves like a dust jacket. The construction is sturdy enough for extensive use and easily taken apart – a fact that binders wishing to respond to the text by rebinding the book itself will appreciate. The wrapper is printed on both sides and features labeled maps of Vatican City and the library. I found the maps most helpful, as Langwe includes a great deal of description of how the physical spaces that the library inhabits have changed over the years.

The text begins with a brief history of the collection. As one of the oldest libraries in the world, the Vatican’s collection has been through a great many changes; however, Langwe does not overwhelm the reader with dry facts. Organized by century, the history charts the evolution of the institution from the dispersal of the collection with the Avignon Papacy in the fourteenth century, all the way to the adoption of an electronic card catalog and building renovations in the twenty-first. Over the years, the library has grown by leaps and bounds through the acquisition of collections of note. Langwe provides a lists of the high spots, such as the Palatine Library of Heidelberg and the collection of the Barberini Family. Other institutions within the Holy See have been spun off of the library’s collection over time, including the Vatican Secret Archive, the Numismatic Cabinet, and the Museo Sacro.

Langwe follows with a discussion of the maturation of the conservation department within the institution. I was surprised to learn that a bookbinder has been employed by the library since 1475 and documentation of book repairs performed goes back to the late sixteenth century. The author describes several large rebinding projects that were undertaken in the past. One must assume that a number of original parchment bindings were lost in these efforts, however, we are lucky that the objects depicted in this volume survive. Today the conservation department is staffed by professionally trained conservators, who recognize the challenges of preserving the artefactual value of an object while maintaining its functionality.

Turning to the historical bindings, Langwe notes that they were meant to be functional and sometimes temporary; a means of organizing information, often with the ability to add or remove parts easily. With the popularity of limp parchment structures in modern book art and conservation practice (see for example Clarkson, 2005; Espinoza, 1993; Lindsay, 1991), it is easy for the contemporary binder to fall into the habit of thinking of limp parchment bindings in only one or two forms: text-to-cover attachment through primary sewing, such as a “long-stitch” structure, or sewn on primary sewing supports that are laced through the cover. Langwe reminds us, however, that these bindings have “infinite possible variations of materials, methods, and structure” (p. 27) and indicates that the goal of her book is to inspire the modern binder with the simplicity of these techniques from antiquity.

Nine bindings in parchment and two in paper are depicted in photographs and described with diagrams and text. Each volume includes different methods of textblock construction and cover-to-text attachment. A three-quarter view photograph of the object is followed by the title and a brief description of the item’s composition and dimensions. Clear diagrams of the textblock and cover construction appear for each structure. For volumes with more complex sewing or ticketing, step-by-step instructions appear alongside diagrams with arrows to indicate sewing or lacing patterns. Although the language assumes that one has experience with the most basic elements of bookbinding, even the novice could use this book to construct accurate models of each structure.

Each of the historical objects is mirrored by a contemporary binding from a list of 11 well-known and talented artists. A photograph of the binding appears alongside the name of the binder, the title of the work, and the title of the historical object that it represents. A brief statement from the artist and a list of materials also appear. I very much enjoyed flipping back and forth between historical and contemporary objects to see which aspects of each binding the artist chose to capture.

Szirmai (2000) in his seminal work, The Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding, acknowledges that “studies of binding structures in archives are very scarce” (p. 287). Langwe’s work is a welcome answer to that call. In recent years, libraries and archives have begun to devote significant resources to digitization of content, but all too often binding structure and composition are ignored. Langwe acknowledges the difficulty in identifying bindings with common structures; however, documentation of bindings through photographs and diagrams, as presented in this book, can be an invaluable resource for contemporary binders, artists, and scholars. I applaud her work and look forward to future publications of this quality.

Bibliography
  • Clarkson, C. (2005). Limp Vellum Binding. Oxford: Christopher Clarkson.
  • Espinosa, R. (1993). "The limp vellum binding: A modification." The New Bookbinder, 13, 27-38.
  • Langwe, M. (2008). Limp bindings from Tallinn. The Bonefolder, 5(1), 3-5.
  • Lindsay, J. (1991). "A limp vellum binding sewn on alumn-tawed thongs". The New Bookbinder, 11, 3-19.
  • Szirmai, J. (2000). The Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. 
[Publisher's note: Limp Bindings of the Vatican is also the catalog for a traveling exhibition that visited the Dalarnas Museum, Falun, Sweden, the Swedish Institute of Classical Studies, Rome, Italy, and Sankta Eugenia Katolska Församling Stockholm, Sweden between September 18 - December 15, 2013. Exhibitors of modern interpretations of the historic bindings were Jody Alexander, Carmencho Arregui, Guy Begbie, Manne Dahlstedt, Sün Evard, Hedi Kyle, Monica Langwe, Lennart Mänd, Chela Metzger, Suzanne Schmollgruber, and Peter D. Verheyen.]



Henry Hébert is the Rare Book Conservator at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He holds a MLIS from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a certificate in hand bookbinding from the North Bennet Street School in Boston, MA. Henry is currently serving as the Communications Chair for the Guild of Book Workers. More information and images of his work can be found at http://www.henryhebert.net.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Book Art Studio Handbook

Stacie Dolin and Amy Lapidow. Book Art Studio Handbook.   Beverly, MA: Quarry Books, 2013. ISBN 78-1592538188. 160 pages. $18.74.

Reviewed by Laura Capp

As a soon-to-be graduate from an MFA program in Book Arts, I have officially begun to hoard reference books.  When the experienced binders, printers, papermakers, and calligraphers I’ve been privileged to learn from are no longer just down the hall, I suspect I will be relying much more heavily on my library for the guidance, advice and inspiration that anyone setting up their own studio will inevitably need.  This is chiefly why my heart leapt for joy at the title of one of the latest instructional manuals in the book arts world:  Stacie Dolin and Amy Lapidow’s Book Art Studio Handbook, published by Quarry Books.

This manual is organized into two parts.  The first, “Getting Started,” introduces the tools one will need to set up a home studio as well as the basic steps any bookbinding project will typically require, such as determining the grain and calculating the amount of paper necessary.  I was especially glad to see a technique covered for trimming textblocks since one of the major drawbacks of graduating, in my mind, is losing access to a board shear.  This section, totaling about one quarter of the book, is most useful for those new to bookbinding or new to working in a more modestly equipped studio.

Part Two, “Studio Projects,” speaks to a broader audience, offering step-by-step instructions for twelve different sample bindings, subdivided into sections on albums, books, enclosures, and advanced projects.  Each section opens with an attentive and intelligent list of questions that will help the user to make considered decisions about the binding and materials based on his or her intentions for the book, and every project is accompanied by thorough photo documentation as well as clear, concise step-by-step instructions.  A brief gallery of the projects presented in the handbook and variations on them concludes the manual.

I would call myself an intermediate binder, having taken three semester-long bookbinding classes, and most of the structures in Book Art Studio Handbook are happily either new to me or are significant enough variations on structures I’ve learned that I’m curious to try them.  Rather than treading on the familiar ground of pamphlets, accordions, basic case bindings, Coptics, and so forth, Dolin and Lapidow provide structures that offer different avenues of exploration, at least for someone with a few years’ experience, and that are accessible to a range of binders.

To test out the project instructions, I put together both the “5-Minute Slipcase” and the “Tacketed Book.”  I found the steps for both projects to be intelligibly described and the photos informative and ample in number – easier for me to make sense of, certainly, than the illustrations often accompanying bookbinding instructions.  The result for the 5-Minute Slipcase project is a sweet little case that is a cinch to put together.  However, while this particular project is meant to be more decorative than durable – as Dolin and Lapidow point out themselves – it is quite fragile, and I would have been glad to spend a few more minutes on the case in exchange for better sturdiness.  Or, given that the 5-Minute Slipcase is quite attractive as a concept, Dolin and Lapidow might also have offered some suggestions on modifications that would achieve other effects or objectives.  The project, for instance, calls for decorative paper; using stiffer paper that still scores and folds well would be an easy way to make the case sturdier.  Having used decorative paper for my version, I opted to slip some 10-point card into the sides of the case and add double-stick tape at the seams for a slightly stronger, crisper product that feels, to me, like it has better longevity.

The "Tacketed Book" is similar in construction to a long-stitch except that the sewing is not continuous; rather, it ties off at every pair of sewing stations, essentially creating staples out of thread.  For this project, there were some slight errors in the instructions that threw me off for a spell (it calls for five sections in the materials list and later refers to the model as having seven sections; it also says that one should “segment the width of the template by the number of sections minus one” [Page 74] when I believe it should be plus one), but I sifted through that and came out with a neat little structure I’m happy to have made.

Book Art Studio Handbook ultimately offers a nice range of bookbinding projects with strong visual and written instructions, but I do confess that the title itself feels imprecise for what the book sets out to do.  “Book art” is no doubt an umbrella term for a wide variety of material objects that utilize hand-sewn bindings, handmade paper, letterpress printing, calligraphy / handlettering, or any combination thereof.  As such, “book art” is not misused in this title, but given the wide-ranging meaning of the phrase and given the fact that the manual focuses exclusively on binding structures, Book Structures Handbook or Bindings for the Home Studio would, perhaps, offer a slightly more circumscribed description of the contents.  I had hoped that Book Art Studio Handbook might also be more focused on the “studio” part of that equation than it ultimately is.  While it does catalog the tools needed to set up a home studio, the title had me dreaming of photographs of actual binders’ studios. Dolin and Lapidow state, at one point, that they “know bookbinders who work in large studios and bookbinders who work in a dedicated corner of their kitchen” [Page 12].  I would have loved to see some examples, even briefly, of this range, but the details are regrettably left up to the imagination.  The first section of the book, “Getting Started,” might have been more beneficial to intermediate and advanced binders by going beyond an introduction to tools and techniques and delving into greater specificity about methods of storage and the organizational logic of experienced binders’ studios.

That said, what is offered up in the pages of Dolin and Lapidow’s Book Art Studio Handbook is well worth the time and exploration.  Offering instruction on the page rather than in a classroom no doubt puts teachers at some disadvantage, and yet Dolin and Lapidow manage to convey the expertise, enthusiasm, inspiration, and encouragement that students are always hungry for.  It is a manual I am grateful to have in my library, and when the impulse to hoard reference books becomes its own storage problem (as it soon will), Stacie Dolin and Amy Lapidow’s Book Art Studio Handbook is one that I will be hanging onto.

[The New England Chapter of the Guild of Book Workers held a virtual exhibition of bindings on or inspired by Book Art Studio Handbook. Click here to view.]



Laura Capp holds a Ph.D. in English from the University of Iowa with an emphasis in Victorian and modernist British literature and is currently an MFA candidate at the Center for the Book, specializing in calligraphy and letterpress printing. She is the recipient of the University of Iowa’s Presidential and Grant Wood Fellowships and has had her work featured in Letter Arts Review. Laura also has over ten years of experience teaching literature and calligraphy courses. For more information and images of her work, visit her online at pentameterpress.com.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Suave Mechanicals, Volume 1: Essays on the History of Bookbinding

Julia Miller (Editor). Suave Mechanicals, Volume 1: Essays on the History of BookbindingAnn Arbor, Michigan: Legacy Press, 2013-. ISBN  0979797454 9780979797453. 538 pages + DVD. $85.00.

Reviewed by Deborah Howe

Picking up the volume of Suave Mechanicals is serious business. Not only is it robust and heavy in physical weight, a well-rounded three and a half pounds, but it contains nine densely academic book history essays which take the reader into a detailed appreciation of what books can tell us when we pay attention and listen. Being a practitioner and not a scholar, I was a bit intimidated to agree to write this review (I thank Peter Verheyen for that), but none the less I was challenged and invigorated by the ways in which this volume creates new pathways and foundational research into our field of book history.

The title of this book is taken from the exhibition of the same name, Suave Mechanicals, held at the University of Michigan in 2003 and curated by the author. In Barlett's review of the exhibit posted 5/1/2003 she says:
The exhibit title is Julia Miller's riff on Shakespeare's characterization of the amateur actors in A Midsummer Night's Dream as "rude mechanicals." It sums up her view of these books as information machines with moving parts that are also objects of sophisticated beauty – that are "suave" – like Cary Grant... with a little age, a little patina, a real character of beauty.
Each chapter in Millers book represents a "Mechanical," with a unique story. Yet much of the research intersects, producing a multi-faceted narrative, many of the stories supporting each other in tangent fashion. Seven of the nine essays concern investigations into a specific collection of books; Evyn Kropf, Sylvie L. Merian, Consuela (Chela) Metzger, Julia Miller, Martha E. Romero, Jennifer W. Rosner and John Townsend, the other two essays, Robert J. Milevski and Jeffrey S. Peachey, focus on a part of book history production.

Reading the table of contents, it appears that the chapters were ordered as an alphabetical list by author and I read them as such. But by the conclusion of the book I think it would better serve the reader to arrange them in a thematic fashion, ordering them so that essays that pair well together would be read succinctly. The similarities would have a continuous reflective flow and would give the book a more united cohesiveness by the conclusion.

In reviewing these essays I have associated them into my own sub groups as I saw parallels, overlaps and associations.

Three of the essays focus on collections that are outside of the American tradition.

Islamic, Armenian and Mexican:

In her essay Kropf focuses on the repair of the books as opposed to how they were bound. Her scholarly approach to the 245 items examined from a collection of 1,090 illustrates the “phenomena observed” in the repair techniques of her study group. The books are from the Islamic manuscript collection at the University of Michigan dating from the ninth to twentieth century CE with texts primarily in Arabic, Persian and Turkish. It is one of the largest collections of such material in North America. The current ongoing cataloging of this collection includes notes stating the types of repair and whether or not it was performed by a craftsman or layperson from the Islamic tradition. Kropf emphasizes the various nuances in describing this new nomenclature; such as the difference between an original wrapper made for an unsewn text block versus a previous cover being reused for a wrapper for a text block that has come unsewn. She references the use of Martha Little's "Evidence of Structure and Procedure in Books: Selected Examples of Potential Clues" as a helpful resource when trying to decode, record and establish the history of a book through physical evidence. This level of description is a valuable reinforcement of how important this detailed information is to the development and comprehension of the history of the book. Kropf and the cataloging team have approached this project in all the right ways.

For a student of Islamic studies or someone with a cursory knowledge of Islamic history, Kropf’s writing will be a delightful read; she highlights vocabulary for specific Arabic words often giving the English/Arabic equivalents such as: Mudarris, meaning teacher and a particular type of paper, Talhi, made in Egypt during the eleventh and twelfth centuries, named after a ruler of the time. These details enrich the essay and help establish the foundation on which her research is predicated.

A refrain that is reiterated throughout this volume is the awareness for the necessity of more research, continuing on the efforts presented here. Kropf solicits suggestions for new venues of research based on her preliminary findings. For the new generations of conservator/scholars or for those of us mature practitioners, who are so inclined, this direct call to duty is stimulating and reminds us of our critical role in perceiving and recording these clues to the past.

Merian’s article focuses on the unusual additions to the covers of Armenian bindings often found between the 17th and 19th century on Christian religious texts which were often gospels. She then explores the history, cultural background, and modern significance of these books. Then systematically illustrates examples of all the different shapes of amulets she has found such as: oval shapes, like that of an "evil eye," hands, faces, coins and engraved seal stones. As she goes through each type of amulet she vividly describes the text and books on which they are mounted, often connecting together the content of the books with why they may have certain types of amulets attached to them. We are familiar with crosses being attached to bindings but as Merian states, these are used as a decorative component. The items she is studying are inferred to be a form of votive offering, placed randomly over the covers, which makes these bindings so interesting.

Many of the mounted objects are in the shape of an eye, "the evil eye" that Merian explains extensively by delving into the Armenian culture and the significance of what it is to have "the evil eye;" it’s not something I would have expected to read in a book about books but it does provide a refreshing diversion to the focused and concentrated study of the books themselves.

She incorporates surveys done by doctors and ethnographers to ascertain current beliefs in the evil eye and reveals how these soldiers of power have been decorated to protect and fortress homes, bodies and even towns and are considered as talisman. The Red Gospels, Karmir Awedaran, hold special power and are thought to work miracles. One of my favorite notes of interest was an example of giving human attributions to these books in the form of kidnappings and then being held for ransom – if a book was kidnapped it was recorded in the colophon.

What I wish to know more about is where or who would have made these objects, and where one might have purchased or obtained them. Merian suggests that for the most part these are only appearing on bindings but could they have also been attached to other items that had power or reverence within the family or church. Some of the images reminded me of the Mexican Milagros found attached to altars to aid in healing.

Since I was not familiar with these types of bindings before, I found the accompanying photos rich in detail. They covered all aspects of her research, even showing these books in the hands of current owners. The footnotes are more than citations and provide the reader with additional relevant information and fascinating details of these amazing books.

In Romero’s chapter we learn that Mexico was the first location of a printing press on the American continent in 1539 with the aim to accelerate the evangelization of the indigenous people. Drawing on a collection of 47 books, printed in Mexico and located in a variety of collections, Romero forms a vision of what publishing and book production was like at the cusp of printing in the "New Spain."

She brings the reader into the streets and the times, where the mix of cultures blended and different races existed side by side, where all text printed had to be approved by the ecclesiastical and vice-regal authorities and every detail of commerce was recorded by the Casa de Contratacion, the agency that kept tight records on what was being imported. This useful information is critical for her study, as she can conclude from it what types of supplies were being shipped. This included types of books, details on how they were bound or not bound, paper coming from Italy and France, these supply inventories reflected what was needed in the new society. They establish what was cheaper to import versus making products from raw materials and considers the question whether or not there was available skilled labor to even produce products. Perhaps these accounts and supply inventories are recorded in ledger or account books which we learn about later in Metzger’s chapter, were they bound in Mexico or shipped over already bound? Once again these types of connections between the essays enrich and create a new broader understanding of the commerce and economic development of the book trade on the American continent.

It is assumed that a book carrying the Mexico imprint was also bound in Mexico. But not many books survived, since they would have been in high demand and received heavy use. Romero breaks the process of binding down step by step, so a reader only somewhat familiar with the binding processes will be able to follow along. The folding of signatures, beating (which we can reference Peachey), endsheet construction, sewing and then lacing on the covers with the variant patterns, all of this she examines with detail and links it with possible European influences, trying to decipher fact with what may be conjecture. Many of the books in the study group are limp vellum showing various styles of lacing techniques, which can help determine the different European influences. The techniques of binding were carried over on the ships by binders and publishers but since New Spain was a mix of all types of peoples there were varied influences on the bindings being produced. Once the book trade established itself in New Spain, there was a need for more bookbinders, this in turn allowed for more adaptations and permutation of technique as the new Mexican binders developed their own styles.

I think as more books are discovered that have been bound in Mexico at this time, Romero, or other scholars, will be able to form more conclusive and definitive facts on how this new society absorbed or rejected those traditions which were carried over from the establishing cultures. We see this same type of dynamic in Metzger, Miller and Townsend, where the examination of Colonial development in America reflects the development of the book trade, such as how printers had to play more than one role and were often the binders and sales men and how local materials were adapted (scaleboard bindings: Miller and Townsend) because other materials were costly to import. What is insightful is that Romero’s study puts Mexico on the map in the history of bookbinding development and is pivotal in examining how a new society grew and developed in regards to its book production.

The American Way:

The next group of essays focuses on book production in America, although there is ample background discussion on the traditions in London and Europe and how they swayed and influenced binding in America. The books examined in this group range from what I would call the street urchins of the time, (Metzger, Miller and Townsend) to the luxury elite society bindings of  papier-mâché or mother of pearl, (Rosner).

The unique world of account books is discussed by Metzger, who examined 63 account books from the Winterthur Library that were produced pre-1800. The beginning of the essay takes us on a brief journey into the history of accounting, where the significant influence of single or double entry or "In the Italian Fashion," was critical in how account books were designed and issued. Book keeping was an elementary aspect of the basic teaching principles, like that of reading and writing. Metzger does a meticulous job in describing the realm of blank book and stationers shops versus the industry of publishing. She uses and refers to standard references of definitions and defines these usages for the reader such as: a blank book is one intended to be written in. The overall sensation and essence of the climate in which these account books were bought, used, and passed on is aptly relayed to the reader through Metzger’s descriptions.

The second part of her essay summarizes comprehensive observations of a select few from the 63, introducing us to the owners and what they wrote, along with descriptions of unique physical attributes from the bindings themselves. These are divided into two groups: "bound in England or in America with the English technique" and the second group, those "likely to be bound in the Colonies." Metzger like Romero is developing the research and background on a pivotal point in the development of the book trade and commerce by studying books bound at this time. It is exactly this type of investigation that is needed to establish important contexts and connections in book history.

The descriptions are intimate, Metzger’s passion and admiration for these books is tangible giving the reader an opportunity to discover a new appreciation of these well-loved and used bindings. She gives as much detail to the contents and owners as to the bindings. Account books were often used for writing personal information, and through Metzger’s eye we see the beauty and grace of each binding and how it bears witness to its time and place. The fact that an account book may travel though many generations of a family and what that family did, as illustrated by Preserved Pierce, who had a boat selling house hold wares, stimulates the reader whereby they might be inclined to take a closer look and find out more about the people within the pages.

Miller and Townsend go hand in hand in describing the setting of the times and reviewing the style of books we know as scaleboard bindings. These are simple no frills simple bindings, using wood for the boards, often covered in plain, sometimes blue paper with very little decoration. These rough bindings have gone unnoticed in the past, not drawing too much attention to themselves. Miller has taken the initiative and has recognized the significance of these, true Sauve Mechanicals, and has brought them out into the limelight to expose their intrinsic value and role in the development of our culture. Describing the various nuances and styles she finds throughout her survey group of 858 books, which derive from six collections, she concludes that perhaps these bindings were mainly produced in Boston and then sent out to the surrounding environs. The number of accompanying photos is extensive and compliments her narrative. Within her essay she compiles a list of firsts; these citations earmark the first date of an example of a particular element, such as: stuck on end bands or gold tooling. There is also a "Scaleboard Binding Typology Survey Form" (long). This is not only practical as a reference guide but it is a tool which can be immediately incorporated into a conservator’s repertoire of documentation.

She acknowledges and evaluates the lack of truly important scholarly work that focuses on the aspect of bindings rather than the history of the decorations. In order to enforce these aspects she says "the history of the book trade in any country is of importance – what people read, what they wanted to read, what they were allowed to read – all enter into the development not only of the reading culture of a particular country but also the social cultural and political life and development of that country." Her goal is to teach and inform us and she asks the reader: "Do you know more about scaleboard binding than you did when you began reading?" I would emphatically say yes, and therefore am fulfilling her first goal.

Townsend’s study group is a narrow one, examining six bindings of the same imprint of the Mohawk Prayer Book, 1715, printed by William Bradford. He is able to establish provenance of some of the copies and comes to conclusions that these are original bindings done by the printer himself, William Bradford. Townsend's echoes much of Miller's descriptive narrative, but he examines some aspects in more detail such as how the boards were fashioned. (with help from Peachey’s research). What he brings to this study by examining such a defined group is the opportunity to really scrutinize a very particular moment in history. His writing is fluid and conversational; it’s easy to follow along his journey in tracking down and examining his books. He is pragmatic and yet engages the reader on a level that is both enjoyable and inquisitive; it’s a bit like solving a mystery.

From the plain everyday simple domestic life of the colonial books, in Rosner’s essay we are transported forward in time into the bustling streets of New York and Philadelphia, where the middle class is tantalized daily with exquisite imports and shimmering objects. These bindings are all about show and finesse. Rosner, started seeing these bindings at the Library Company, where she is the conservator, and realized not much had been written about them. Her essay gives us a thorough background into the development of these book covers, the companies which produced them and how they transformed from an object product to book covers. These could be considered gaudy by some, but I find them beautiful and the vast array of photos only reinforces their splendor. This is an essay about a very select type of binding that was produced for a very short time in the 1850’s for a targeted audience. Rosner takes her study a step further by producing a set of covers herself. Following instructions intended for "ladies" of the time, she explains step by step her experiences and shares the resulting papier-mâché covers. This particular aspect of her essay I find refreshing as it is something that I could envision trying myself and by doing so I would experience firsthand the complexities of such an item that is part of our historical story.

Process and Labels:

I had never really considered the beating process, one of the "three formative elements of bookbinding" until I took Peachey’s class on “Late 18th Century French Binding Structure" taught at the Paper and Book Intensive in 2010. We see the evidence of hammering and beating illustrated in the many images of historical binderies, which Peachey aptly shows us in his many photos, but this process is not taught anymore. The essay does an excellent job in portraying the history and reasoning behind this process, from the first days of hammering to the last days of pressing and rolling, he highlights in details all aspects of this critical process in our book production history. If you are already familiar with his blog, http://jeffpeachey.wordpress.com, you will know that he is our leading expert in all ways of the tools of our trade and his research on them has been an enormous contribution to the surrounding history and development of the book trade.

His descriptions are so vivid that after reading this essay I felt tired from imagining the amount of force and arm strength required to produce the required compression of signatures. As book conservators we are trained to handle these books with care and a gentle touch and yet knowing how they were produced under such harsh circumstances one gets a very new perspective. After doing this myself, it is amazing the difference in the feel of a text block after it has been beaten, I think we feel this intuitively because of all the books we handle, but to actually go through the process is to know it, and understand and see the affects it has on the finished product.

I think everyone interested in the production of books should try beating, as far I am aware it’s not taught anymore and I’m not sure why not. Perhaps my colleagues at North Bennet Street School may be able to change that!

What I enjoyed about Rosner’s and Peachey’s essays was the practical side of them. Each author took the time to investigate actually performing the task at hand.

The last essay to discuss is "A Primer on Signed Bindings" by Milevski. This topic explores naming proprietorship of the binder of the book. The beginning outlines bindings that are signed directly into the cover; it takes a good eye to find the often hidden, signed stamp and Milevski shows us with detailed blow ups where these signatures are. As he moves forward in time he describes how these "signed" bindings become labels often used as advertising, and referred to as binders tickets. One significant binding ticket was found under a paste down and Milevski states this is one of the earliest known binder’s labels. He goes into detail of the many types of tickets with brief summaries of who the binders were and how the labels were produced. The many variations are wonderful to look at including his selection of foreign binders’ tickets. The more interesting labels are those which are quite explicit in an advertising sense, describing different services offered or "Likewise Books Bound after what manner you please."

Each chapter in this volume stands alone, however as a whole they complement each other so well that the cumulative information casts a wide and deep net. The chapters tie together within each topic and yet the cross over is thought-provoking and informative, going from beating books in Mexico (Romero), to the history of this step (Peachey,), both Metzger and Milevski use the same binder ticket image, and Townsend quotes research done by Miller and Peachey. What the reader takes away from this collection is so much more than what is detailed in each essay. It is the collection together with all the various background information and detailed supportive evidence, not only derived from the books themselves but from the times in which they lived and were produced. We are taken down the main streets of the topics at hand but we are then diverted down the side streets and back alleys to the nitty-gritty.

This book highlights the need for further and continued research in these subjects. Some of the research in this volume is predicated on previous established research, especially that of Szirmai, French, Spawn, and work done by Pickwoad that is referred to often, yet in this current generation there is a pressing need to establish new research. Drawing upon the practical knowledge of conservators and practitioners who have a trained eye into the observation of these books is critical to the advancement of our understanding and comprehension of how the book shaped who we were and now, as we face a new brink of changing book distribution and production it is even more critical to reflect on past historical knowledge. This book raises the level of investigative research with an eye towards merging related topics and opening up new ones. This book is definitely a critical addition to anyone’s collection, be it that of a scholar, conservator, or a student of book history.

Townsend summarizes it well as he states at the end of his essay:
"Perhaps the best way to pursue such investigations is to forget what we know, or think we know, and approach the evidence – documentary, bibliographic, physical or cultural – with a critical eye to gain a fresh look that may lead to new conclusions."
I have a great affinity and admiration for many of these authors, as they have become my close colleagues and friends over the years, generously sharing their expertise, knowledge and good will. With their practiced insight and professional standing they have brought new discoveries and awareness to the arena of book history. This book could be used as a quick reference or as a required text in a History of Book class. It establishes a new level of scholarly research and invites each one of us to become more astute and insightful when conserving and or observing these rough jewels.



Deborah Howe is the Collections Conservator at Dartmouth College Library. Previously, she headed the conservation lab at Northwestern University Library. In addition to her conservation work she has been actively involved in teaching book arts. She has taught at Columbia Center for Paper and Book, the Newberry Library, the Paper and Book Intensive and currently binding classes at the Book Arts Workshop at Dartmouth. She is a long-standing member of the Guild of Book Workers and is on the board of directors of the Morgan Conservatory in Cleveland, Ohio.