I’ve been working to get the perks made for Motoscribendi. I’ve done production binding for clients for years, but not often for my own projects. Here I am beginning to sew a 6″ x 9″ textblock, pack sewn on leather thongs.
The sewing frame was made for me by Tom Conroy, a Berkeley bookbinder and binding historian. He used a foot-treadle lathe to turn the arms for making the screws. Tom doesn’t like power tools.
I’ve offered 5 books at 160 pages – but then I started sewing and they’ll end up being 192pages. Oh well, production values are variable when things are handmade.
My Indiegogo Motoscribendi campaign is now up. I’ve made a video describing the kinds of things I’ll be looking at. I volunteered at this week’s conference of the Rare Books and Manuscripts Section (RBMS) of the Association of College and Research Libraries (ACRL). Hosted in Oakland and on the campus of UC Berkeley’s libraries, hundreds of librarians came together to discuss the challenges and opportunities of libraries in the digital era. It was a good time meeting up with a few old friends and meeting new colleagues from around the country.
When I wasn’t helping out, I was in my shop working on the video and cutting a woodblock logo for the project.
The excitement of cutting letters in wood continues to grab me. Taking a letterform and rendering it in relief in wood is physically demanding and challenging. The resultant printed image transforms the scribal experience.
I’ll have more images of writing books and my own woodcuts posted in a day or two.
I’ll be launching an Indiegogo project on Wednesday to fund my travels to libraries.
Motoscribendi: 1 Man, 1 Motorcycle & 14 Libraries is the title, and I’ve done a PitchFuse prelaunch to gather a little head of steam.
Why ride when I could view a bunch of writing manuals online using the Hathi Trust Database? I could easily review the Hofer’s collection and read David Becker’s excellent The Practice of Letterscomfortably at home. Reading Morison, Fairbank and all the rest, I could be up to speed on writing manuals in American collections within six months and never bother with going to look at one of those dusty old books. Save a lot of wear and tear on me – and on the books.
But where’s the fun in that? Those dusty old books are what I’m here for. Digital tools are quite good for general research, but they’ll never replace connection with the physical object. Tactile interaction informs the researcher and cannot be transmitted by even the best digital reproduction.
Why then, would I want to create an online census of writing manuals in America? I’m advocating touching and using the books rather than view digital reproductions. I’m a fan of the internet for what it does well, but I’m not convinced that limiting access to the objects by telling scholars to refer to digital images serves us.
Uploading a bunch of bibliographic records from various libraries in a spreadsheet could be of some use, but is the result worth the effort? Not if the exercise doesn’t add something. By visiting libraries, talking to staff and scholars, I want to build a crowdsourced finding aid that has more current information than that found in older cataloged records. David Becker went to libraries and compared catalog records to the items. He writes about the books at the Hofer Collection while including information about other copies of the book in other institutions. This is the the purpose of scholarship – add to the knowledge base and offer greater access.
By making a survey of books, cataloging and institutional practices in a short period of time sets the stage for the long-range goal of building the census. By drawing on institutional knowledge not captured in the catalog, the census will improve over time to become even more useful.
This wouldn’t be any fun without a few images, would it?
History of Writing Manuals A. S. Osley wrote a number of books and articles about writing masters and their books. His Scribes and Sources is instructive as he translates passages from a number of writing manuals and gives a bit of information about each scribe and the book(s) published. In 1972, he published Luminario. It’s a big book (10″ x 14″) with great illustrations, covering similar territory.
I’ve spent the last three days in Northern California at my friend Sumner Stone’s* Alphabet Farm. Our shared interest in writing manuals and early type design is not all that widespread, so it was a pleasure to have this retreat offered up. I have spent quite a bit of time reading the Osley books as well as books by Alfred Fairbank, Stanley Morison and others. The amount of information known about the earliest writing masters and their printed books is impressive and somewhat daunting. Twentieth century scholars found this subject irresistible, giving rise to the modern calligraphic movement. Interest in the calligraphic hands of early writing masters is still quite strong.
I’m taking this trip because there’s more to know by looking at the physical books, not just reading about them or looking at reproductions. A friend asked how many books are out there, and how many I’m expecting to look at. The universe of writing manuals collected in North America is, as yet, unknown. I plan on studying 500 books total. My current institutional list is at 16 but I’m convinced it will go up to 20. That’s 25 books at each institution and if I were to spend 4 days in a library, I’d have an hour per book. Travel may exceed 10,000 miles and at 500 miles a day, that’s 20 days of travel which puts the trip at 100 days. My main concern on the tail end of the trip will be weather in the mountains. I’m not fond of riding in the snow. Riding home in the setting sun, I saw this bridge & took the obligatory moto shot.
Sometimes a motorcycle ride is just a ride. And at other times, it’s a dramatic escape from the shackles of entropy. This particular ride started with an escape and developed into a dream.
Once I closed my business after 12 years in operation, my time became my own again. I could take a trip and get on with things that I’d set aside for years. Like long distance motorcycle trips and studying writing manuals. My niece was getting married in Llano, TX and I planned to ride there and visit the Harry Ransom Center (HRC) at the University of Texas in Austin after the wedding.
The motorcycle for this little excursion is a 1987 Honda Hurricane 1000F, commonly known as a sport touring bike. My knees may disagree with its suitability for long hours in the saddle, but it was a good mount as regards power.
I spent somewhat longer in replacing the alternator damper than I planned to. It is an arcanely designed part that spins the starter and also spins the alternator to keep the battery charged. It was buried deep within the engine cases and is known to be a difficult installation. Some things bring their own challenges and this one offered me a growth opportunity.
The wedding was on Saturday, April 11, and I’d hoped to get on the road early in the week. The mechanical challenge ate up my time but I persevered until Wednesday, April 8, 2015 when at 5:00 p.m. the bike started and ran. Rob, one of my riding buddies, talked me out of trying to shove some items in my new saddle bags and get going that night.
I messed around until 1:00 a.m. and got up at 4:30 to leave. I was on the road a little after 5:00 a.m. heading east out of Oakland and into the morning dawn. Still dark as I rode along 580 towards I5. Traffic was backed up in the other direction but my side was pretty empty and I began to feel the excitement of the start of a trip. While I5 isn’t the most inspiring road, it was fairly empty and the cloud cover kept the temperature ideal. East of Bakersfield, Dave, my imaginary internet buddy, guided me to Barstow and south on 247 towards I10. This little road has twists, turns, elevation and climate change. Lucerne Valley is pleasant and the Morongo Valley is a little gem.
Sixteen hours after starting, I stopped in Gila Bend, AZ to stealth camp in an RV park behind a truck stop. Setting up this tent in the dark with my stiff back, knees and fingers was a bit of a comedy as I couldn’t really see what I was doing and had only used this tent twice before. Adventure!
Friday, April 10th before the workday traffic began I was back on the road and on I10 headed towards Texas. Arizona and New Mexico flew by as I meditated on my life and this trip. I was looking forward to making it by Saturday afternoon for my niece’s wedding. I had 960 miles to go and I might have made it but bailed out after the heat, hail and rain I rode through in West Texas. I got a hotel in Ozona, roughly 850 miles from the day’s starting point.
Saturday morning’s ride into Llano through the Hill Country was very pleasant with clouds and dramatic light playing across the bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush. It was one of those atmospheric tricks that happened for much of this 3 day trip that suggested that all was well in the world. The wind and sun caressed my skin in a way that felt like i was in a movie.
But I knew better, weather will turn on ya in a mile and make you wish you’d stayed home.
Family, old friends, new acquaintances, this is what weddings are for – and this one didn’t disappoint. I felt renewed and connected as I hadn’t in quite a while. Yes, it was worth the somewhat uncomfortable ride. And even the discomfort enriched the experience.
At The Hideaway in Llano, TX
Bluebonnets, bulletholes and dirtbikes – a typical Texas scene
On Tuesday I headed to the HRC on the UT campus. This was the scene of phase two of my calligraphic and history of the book education. In 1982, I worked in the conservation lab and then moved to the rare book reading room as a page. I wanted to look at a few of the writing manuals that I studied back then. I forgot that the HRC has one of the stellar collections of writing manuals in the United States. In conversation with the rare books librarian, Rich Oram, I was reminded of the breadth and scope of this collection that was sold to UT in 1962 by the Italian book dealer Carla Marzoli.
Horfei Copybook @ Harry Ransom Center
Horfei Copybook @ Harry Ransom Center. This book was trimmed and the pages were mounted in a larger textblock – much like a scrapbook
Call slip record
Unfortunately, the cataloger of that time chose not to note in a field which books came from the Marzoli purchase. It is not too difficult to read the printed catalog that was used to sell the collection. However, in this day of digital research, having a data field to cross reference all the information available would have been useful. The presumption that finding things online will be faster and easier than the old analog method of checking a card catalog isn’t always the case. We’re a long way from the utopian world of comprehensive digital access to rare books and special collections material.
There’s some difficulty in discovering where writing manuals are collected when using WorldCat. It will give you a fair description of known copies in libraries, if they were cataloged individually. Cataloging standards have changed over time and the entries in WorldCat are limited to libraries. When searching for Il Perfetto by Giovanni Fracesco Cresci printed in 1570, the Metropolitan Museum’s copy housed in their Drawings and Prints collection doesn’t appear in WorldCat since this copy was cataloged as a work of art on paper, not as a library item. I was able to look at the two copies ofIl Perfettowhile at the HRC. But only the 1579 edition is cataloged in their records. The second copy is bound in a 19th C. compendium of writing manuals that were cut apart and pasted into one of seven volumes of writing manuals compiled by Henry Benjamin Hanbury Beaufoy, a wealthy vinegar magnate. That catalog entry states that the collection focuses on English, Dutch and German writing books. Cresci’s books were published in Milan.
My trip back to California was fairly uneventful and quite pleasant. Weather was mostly perfect and I traveled off I10 up through New Mexico from Deming to Holbrook, AZ on NM180. They’ve had rain and it was green and truly spring-like in the mountains.
As I rode without a deadline, enjoying the scenery and wind and speed, my mind drifted to the writing manuals. One of the big attractions to riding a motorcycle long-distance is that it is a moving meditation. I can free-associate and let a part of my mind wander while still attending to the road and scenery. When I ride for more than five hours in a go, the continuos attention to the road settles me into a reflective mood that I don’t get very often. The prolonged continuance of this state becomes a laboratory for my mind. I shift into this creative zone where ideas that don’t come freely begin to emerge. I can reflect on them, review them and revise them like sketches on a pad.
This is what I was doing for the five days I took to travel 2150 miles back to Oakland. In the middle of the ride, I spent a day in Flagstaff doing nothing more than walking around and resting and writing. My body didn’t need the rest as much as my mind needed to calm down from the excitement of my thoughts.
The idea that captured my imagination was a clarification of something I’ve been playing with the past few months after closing my business. I’ve wanted to combine the two passions of my life. Riding, studying writing manuals, visiting libraries and book arts friends and telling stories.
This was the genesis of the ride I’m about to take.
Writing manuals teach a student how to form letters and write a particular style of writing or hand. Often, a writing manual discussed ink recipes, paper selection, how to cut a quill into a pen and how to hold it. They came into widespread use in the first quarter of the 16th century as a way to teach students how to be scribes. The first writing book to be published was written by Ludovico degli Arrighi’s La Operina and was printed from a text cut in wood.
Books with text cut in wood had been available prior to the invention of moveable type, but those books were meant to be read for the text only. With metal type, there was no way to illustrate how to form letters, and Arrighi had his text engraved in wood and printed from these blocks of text. Writing manuals quickly became Renaissance best sellers. Writing manuals were popular books because they showed how to write specific styles and they were designed to be beautiful books.
Because the text was cut in wood (later engraved in copper), the blocks were saved for later printing and often printed by different printers. Their useful life could extend beyond a century. This gave rise to a dizzying number of variants and titles.
Giovanni Batista Palatino composed and published Libro nuovo d’imparare a scrivener in 1540. As you can see from the title, the advertiser’s favorite “New and Improved” marketing technique was born. Julie L. Melby at Princeton’s Graphic Arts collection does a fine job of writing about these books in Palatino’s Tools of Writing.
The Bancroft Library’s copy Compendio del gran volvme dell’art del bene & leggiadramente scriuere tutte le forti di lettere e caratteri… from 1588, shows a previous owner’s attempt at writing out the text in the margin.
Where are these books located & how do I find them?
The heavyweights in the history of writing have written about these books for a century. People like Stanley Morison, Alfred Fairbank, James Wardrop and Nicholas Barker dove deep into this subject. These guys were interested in how handwriting influenced type design and how these books were made and printed because they were primarily illustrated books about letterforms. Illustrated in wood or metal, the text might be all cut (therefore illustrated, not typeset) or an admixture of typographic and xylographic (woodcut) or copperplate. If you’re really interested in this, you can get lost in the subject and never even see one of the actual books. There is so much literature in both books and journals that you could spend a year reading and know only a little.
Because I have spent a lot of time looking at these books all over the US, I’m familiar with their location and know where the major collections are. Making a census of books by location will assist scholars in their research. Without this type of finding aid, it is difficult to know what is in an institution since items are not cataloged in a way that they can be found online.
I invite readers to suggest institutions with writing manuals and copybooks that I may have missed.
I am drawing a map that will give you a view of where I’ll be headed – and loosely, when. Then you can follow along, and if I discover more institutions along the way I can visit them. The trip will begin in the Bay Area and head in a counter-clockwise direction around the US and into Canada.
Leaving the locals till last, I’ll give you a quick highlight: Huntington Library, Harry Ransom Center, UTAustin, Library of Congress, Folger Shakespreare Library, Scranton, Philadelphia, Princeton, New York Public Library, Columbia University, Yale, American Antiquarian Society, Harvard, Toronto, Chicago, Iowa City, and home to the target-rich environment of the Bay Area.
Locally, the Bancroft Library at UCBerkeley has a number of items, San Francisco Public Library, Stanford and the Letterform Archive. You’ll be hearing about this new institution as my friend Rob Saunders has turned his private collection of material about letterforms into a nonprofit organization that offers digital images of the collection as well as on-site study for type designers, calligraphers, lettering artists and historians.
I’ve got a few things to prepare for my Indiegogo launch on June 19, and will be back in a day or two with more.
Here’s a few woodblock items I’ve done and printed letterpress.