GBW BLOG

Review: Bookbinding 2000 Demonstrations – Don Etherington, Fully Dressed in Leather

February 6th, 2012

Bookbinding 2000 Demonstrations – Don Etherington, Fully Dressed in Leather: Conservation Style, RIT Cary Graphic Arts Press, ISBN1-933360-6, DVD running time 68 min, $40 (or $33 if bought as part of a set)

The conference Bookbinding 2000 brought together an international audience of binders and bibliophiles to commemorate the installation of Bernard C. Middleton’s collection of books on binding and related arts at Rochester Institute of Technology’s (RIT) Cary Graphic Arts Collection. Part of the proceedings consisted of twelve lectures or demonstrations. Of these, the RIT Cary Graphic Arts Press has released six in both VHS and DVD format. This review only covers Don Etherington’s “Fully Dressed in Leather: Conservation Style.” The others will be reviewed in upcoming Newsletters.

Let me start off by saying that this is by far the best bookbinding instructional video I have seen to date. Don presents the information clearly and fully, and the video quality and editing is top notch and of a fully professional production.

In the video, Don demonstrates just the covering of the book (smooth spine, hollow back) in full leather. However, prior to the actual demonstration he gives a detailed explanation of how the book was forwarded and the reason why it was done this way.  One detail is the beveled boards, which allow much thicker leather to be used and still end up with elegant and pleasing edges. I found that throughout the demonstration, Don’s explaining why he was using a certain process was extremely informative. Instead of just following a step-by-step course, I understood the underlying reasoning behind it.

Following this brief introduction, Don then covers the book in full leather. It is here that the excellent camera work and editing come into play. In his Abbey Newsletter (Vol. 24, No. 1) article, Terry Belanger comments on the filming of the Bookbinding 2000 demonstrations: “[T]he star of the show was a video camera on an articulated boom whose unseen operator could cause his instrument to buzz around the demonstrations.”

Throughout the demonstration you are clearly able to see what Don is doing. When a close-up is needed it is there and in focus. This attention to detail makes the entire demonstration easy to follow and understand.

Once the covering is completed, Don gives a brief explanation of what he would have done differently had the book been done with raised bands. Questions from the audience are closed-captioned.

Given the high quality of the demonstration (this is Don Etherington after all) and the quality of the filming, I can highly recommend the video. The pricing is also very reasonable, especially if bought as part of the six-DVD set.

Frank Lehmann is a bookbinder/conservator in private practice. He runs Lehmann Bindery, located in Northern San Diego County, which consists of himself and two dogs—and he has no delusions who really runs the place.

Thanks are due to the GBW Newsletter, where this review was originally published.

Book Review: Just My Type: A book about fonts

December 14th, 2011

Just My Type: A book about fonts by Simon Garfield with a foreward by Chipp Kidd.

GOTHAM BOOKS  Published by Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Hardcover, dust jacket, 5¾ x 8½ inches, 356 pages, U.S.$27.50, Can$32.00. ISBN 978-1-592-40652-4

An announcement of the publication of Just My Type caught my eye (the dust jacket design is striking) and I found myself smiling because it was somewhere out there in the world and not in a book related publication. It looked to be entertaining and informative, so I requested a copy to review.

I was enjoying reading it enormously until I came across another review  by Paul Shaw in ‘Inprint-The Online Community for Graphic Designers’ which pointed out, on many occasions, that some of the information wasn’t true. That rather spoiled it and I put the book aside for several weeks, picking it up now and then to read a few pages or a chapter out of order.

Maybe it was Garfield’s humor that got up Shaw’s nose. Most of the time I really enjoyed the way Garfield presented the information and told the stories associated with the design of type. I do though have to agree with Shaw in taking exception to the statement, “And calligraphy is virtually gone, a craft Prince Charles is said to be keen on, hanging on grimly behind glass on the qualification certificates of quantity surveyors and chiropractors.” Shaw’s description is “snotty put-downs.” I just think Garfield is ill informed.

Just My Type is entertaining and informative. Apparently not all of the information is entirely correct, but overall I would say it is enjoyable and certainly taught me more about type design and has given me added reason to appreciate the work involved. This is not a history of type design, but does give historic information through chapters on various designers and observations on major shifts that have taken place as a result of technological changes in print communication.

Through my work as a binder I am aware of type design, but the stories Garfield tells have made me even more aware and did get me thinking of those early days, studying binding. We did so much work then with brass engraved hand held letters which were so incredibly expensive to purchase. Oh the hours we all spent trying to decide what type face to purchase and then what size. And the greatest disappointment was to find that what seemed a fail safe way to title a book, in the type face it was printed in, didn’t always look right or read well impressed with gold on a leather spine. The chapters in Just My Type illustrate similar specific examples of use which explains different typefaces’ use and influence.

This is a great read and will spark your curiosity to continue research. You will find yourself smiling when you pass the next road sign, turn on the computer or go to the grocery. The endpapers are the The Periodic Table of Typefaces and there is a bibliography to begin the list for more information.

I enjoyed this book so much I think GOTHAM BOOKS should publish another version with better reproductions of the examples and double check on the accuracy of all the information!

Gabrielle Fox is a bookbinder trained in England and now based in Cincinnati, Ohio. She is the author of The Essential Guide to Making Handmade Books and is now writing the history of Larkspur Press.

Thanks are due to the GBW Newsletter, where this review was originally published.

Conservation Tip: Creating a simulated grain; or novel uses for a belt sander in conservation

October 24th, 2011

by Dan Paterson, Assistant Chair, Potomac Chapter

This experiment in creating a false grain for a re-backing leather was inspired by a conversation with Renate Mesmer. She had been looking for a way to create a simulated grain on a cast composite repair for a 19th century cloth spine and used the belt from a belt sander as her mould. (For a fuller explanation of cast composite repair techniques see the Book and Paper Group Annual, 2010, Grace Owen and Sarah Reidell, pp 98-105.) She was pleased with the results and showed them to me. Several months later, I was doing a leather re-back on a 19th century photo album. The sheep skin had a distinctive pebbly grain pattern and none of our leathers had similar surface characteristics. I decided to follow Renate’s belt sander example since the finish was similar to the cloth binding. I selected a piece of goatskin to use and pared it as usual. Once pared, I dyed it to achieve a close approximation of the original skin. When satisfied with the color, I got the skin damp and placed the belt sander belt against the grain, put them between blotters and pressing tins, and put everything in the press under moderate pressure for 30 minutes. The result was a surprisingly close approximation of the grain on the original skin. It was by no means an exact match, but it created a much less noticeable transition between the original leather and new when placed side by side on the book. I was concerned that during the actual re-backing the embossed pattern would be lost through wetting out and manipulating the skin. Predictably, some of the pattern was softened, but it retained most of its character and made a sympathetic repair. Pictured below is a piece of the leather. On the right is the original grain pattern and on the left is the embossed finish from the belt sander.

* This article was originally published in the Potomac Chapter September 2011 newsletter, Volume 7, Issue 2. Thanks to Dan Paterson and Linda Hohneke, Potomac Secretary and newsletter editor, for allowing us to republish here.

Nuns’ Book Production in Fifteenth and Sixteenth-Century Italy

August 23rd, 2011

Dissertation-in-progress by Melissa Moreton

PhD Candidate, Department of History, University of Iowa

My research concerns the role religious women played in the production of medieval and Renaissance manuscripts, as scribes, illuminators and early printers. It is commonly understood that much of the classical and Christian writing that survived from Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages was copied and preserved by monks. However, it is less well known that female scribes and illuminators accounted for a significant contribution to this production throughout the Middle Ages, Renaissance and into the early modern period. Nuns also participated in the printing of books in the early decades after the advent of printing. It is these contributions, particularly the production of secular and religious texts by Italian nuns, which is the subject of my dissertation.

More than fifteen female religious houses have been identified as sites of book production in fifteenth and sixteenth-century Italy, and almost two thirds of these are located in Florence. Nuns’ book production in Renaissance Florence took place in a variety of female religious communities, including Dominican, Benedictine, Vallombrosian, Brigittine, Clarissan and Augustinian. One convent in particular, the Dominican house of San Jacopo di Ripoli, embodied both the technologies of manuscript production and printing. The San Jacopo nuns produced liturgical manuscripts throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance, working on scribal production, musical notation and sometimes illumination. In the 1470s a printing press was also established at their house by two friars from San Marco, a male Dominican house on the other side of town (known for the famous friars associated with the house, Fra Angelico and Savonarola and its patronage by Cosimo de’Medici who commissioned a library there). The nuns played an important role in the patronage of this early Florentine press, providing a site for production, commissioning religious works and sometimes working as compositors, setting the type for secular works such as Pulci’s Morgante and perhaps other humanist and classical works as well. Active for eight years, the San Jacopo press was only the second press ever to be established in Florence and the first to produce a substantial body of work, printing over 100 secular and religious titles (12,000 volumes) as well as pamphlets and broadsides.

Colophon identifying nun-scribe Sister Angela, of the convent of San Jacopo di Ripoli, in a Florentine manuscript of c. 1500

At Le Murate, a Benedictine house in Florence’s Franciscan neighborhood of Santa Croce, the nuns produced devotional and liturgical manuscripts from the early 1470s through the sixteenth century. Some of these were luxury manuscripts, given as gifts to wealthy and influential patrons – for example, a Medici pope, wealthy local businessmen or aristocrat with family ties to the nuns in that house. As gift objects, these manuscripts created and solidified ties of patronage, connections that were essential to the financial survival and prestige of the religious community. Another site of book production was the Brigittine double monastery of Santa Brigida al Paradiso just outside of Florence, which housed both monks and nuns. The scriptorium was active during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, producing mostly devotional and theological texts, with at least 48 manuscripts identified with scribal signatures by Paradiso nun-scribes. Some Florentine women’s houses produced both scribal and illumination work.

My research concerns the role religious women played in the production of manuscripts and books – as bookmakers, scribes, early printers – and intellectual participants in the lives of their communities. Evidence of their work serves to remind us of women’s role in the transmission of classical and early Christian literature and also presents historians with a wealth of information concerning the nuns’ levels of education, literacy, religious and artistic life and practice. However, their contributions go beyond their own religious communities. The nuns’ intellectual and artistic pursuits, business acumen, as well as their ability to forge alliances through their craft production allowed them to survive, thrive and make a significant impact on life both inside and outside their convents. Nuns collaborated with secular male illuminators, religious counterparts and bookbinders to produce their books – from affordable early printed books for secular and religious readers, books for internal convent use and the education of the nuns, books for humanist book owners and members of other religious communities, to high end luxury manuscripts used to solidify ties of patronage. As the makers of books, the nuns of Renaissance Florence became essential contributors to the burgeoning community of scholars, artists and intellectuals who shaped Italian and European history in this period and into the modern era.

Melissa Moreton

PhD Candidate, Department of History

University of Iowa, Iowa City

melissa-moreton@uiowa.edu

Making Gary’s Broadside to Commemorate his GBW Lifetime Achievement Award

March 17th, 2011

Broadside produced for 2010 Standards, commemorating Gary Frost

We wanted to show the depth and range of Gary’s contributions to the field as well as impart at least a bit of the affection and respect those of us who have had the opportunity to work with him have.

Gary began his career with a deep immersion into the ways books operate and function in order to conserve them in the best possible manner. He still applies that knowledge to his work, but he has also widened his interests (as he always does) to encompass the history of the printed word and future of the book and of print in our digital age. We decided we wanted to convey the intersection of these interests and to show how deeply rooted they are in Gary’s thinking.

Gary was unbelievably generous with his drawings. We did not tell him what we were up to, merely asked if we could ‘use some of his drawings of books’. Going to his lab, we found a box full of beautiful drawings, ranging from observational pencil drawings to analytic pen and ink renderings to diagrammatic details. It was an amazing array. It was almost impossible to select a manageable number to print. We chose several that we felt showed the range of his work over the last forty years, and paired them with two recent quotations from Gary’s writing on the impact and relevance of the printed book. We, of course, had to include his favorite colors as well!

The images were printed from polymer plates and the type was hand set metal. Students and other UI faculty joined us for the typesetting, platemaking and printing; another testament to the regard all of us at the UI Center for the Book hold for Gary.

By Julia Leonard and Sara Langworthy

Notes from a visit to Relma

February 14th, 2011


Last year my husband and I had the amazing opportunity to spend a few months living just outside of Paris, France. We took in many incredible sights, and one of the most beautiful to my bookbinding eyes was our walk through Relma, the bookbinding shop pictured in these photos.


As someone who doesn’t live near the few stores in our country that are stocked with a wide variety of supplies and materials, it was a special treat to walk into the shop and be surrounded by all of this splendor.


In the first GBW blog post, Andrew Huot said that the blog is “for everyone interested in thinking about and making books.” Looking at the great variety in Relma certainly set my mind churning, I hope these photos do the same for you.

- Monica Holtsclaw

Pierced Vellum Bindings by James Reid-Cunningham

January 20th, 2011

The last few years I have been researching 17th century pierced vellum bindings. This rather obscure decorative binding features a vellum cover with decorative designs cut out of the vellum, and boards lined with brightly colored silk, satin or leather. The puncturing of the vellum cover creates a vivid visual design. On historical exemplars, this design forms a symmetrical geometric pattern, sometimes approaching the appearance of lace.

I have only found a few historical examples. This may be because this was an extremely rare type of binding to begin with, or because library and dealer catalogs do not have a specific terminology for describing these bindings. I call them “pierced vellum bindings” only because the first one I encountered was described in this way. There may be other names used for these unique objects, so simply googling the term “pierced vellum binding” doesn’t return many results.

There are few citations in the literature about pierced vellum bindings. In Bookbinders at Work, Mirjam Foot notes that the only known description of this binding technique is found in Faust’s early 17th century manuscript describing binding procedures (Beschrijvinghe ende onderwijsinghe ter discreter ende vermaerder consten des boeckbinders handwerck / door Anshelmus Faust = Prescription et enseignement de la discrète et fameuse science de la manifacture des relieurs de livres / par Anshelmus Faust ; édité avec une introduction et des notes par Georges Colin, Bruxelles : Bibliotheca Wittockiana & Fl. Tulkens, 1987.)

As shown in this detail, if the binding was tooled, the tooling was done first, followed by the punching of the holes before covering. The vellum was pierced with punches similar to those used by leatherworkers, although larger openings in the skin were simply cut with a knife. All of the decoration was done before covering.

Faust states that after the piercing, the vellum was glued and the cloth-lined boards were inserted into the case. Historical examples can appear as though they are limp case bindings with boards loosely inserted in the covers before the vellum turn-ins were pasted down. The limp appearance may result from the adhesive having given way over time. Sewing supports of alum-tawed leather or vellum were all laced into the case. Some have structural endbands with the cores laced into the case.

One reason for the rarity of these bindings is that they are extremely time-consuming to produce. This is also a very unforgiving decorative scheme; even a single mistake in cutting or punching the holes will result in ruining the cover. It is also extremely challenging to glue out the pierced vellum without ending up with the adhesive migrating into the openings and staining the cloth. One wonders if, after a short period of experimentation, this style of binding was abandoned simply because of the difficulty of turning a profit producing such labor-intensive bindings.

I have taught two courses in this binding style, one utilizing limp boards (with the vellum adhered to the boards only at the turn-ins), and one utilizing a modification of the modern German vellum over boards construction featuring “floating” boards. Here are examples of my own pierced vellum design bindings:

The only other contemporary binder I know of who is working in pierced vellum is Lester Capon, president of the Designer Bookbinders. Lester’s bindings have stiff boards, with the design cut into the vellum before it is pasted to the boards. The color is either leather or pigment.

I am very interested in discovering any other historical examples of this decorative technique. If you know of any collections containing pierced vellum bindings, or if you know of any technical descriptions of this binding in a historical manual, please email me at reid-cunningham@bostonathenaeum.org.

James Reid-Cunningham

Chief Conservator of the Boston Athenaeum

Exhibition Review: Twinrocker Paper Retrospective on View in Atlanta, Georgia

October 31st, 2010

A 40 year retrospective of Twinrocker Paper, arguably the most important American paper mill of the late 20th century, is currently on view through December 17, 2010, at the Robert C. Williams Paper Museum at Georgia Tech in Atlanta, Georgia.  “Twinrocker: Forty Years of Hand Papermaking” is a celebration of the exceptional work of the husband and wife team, Howard and Kathryn Clark.  The exhibit encompasses the breadth, depth and exquisite quality of the work produced by them through the inclusion of photographs and videos of the Clarks, as well as examples of their superb work.

A bit of history, Howard is a mechanical engineer by training and degree, Kathryn holds an MFA in printmaking.  While living and working in San Francisco in 1971, the Clarks began to explore the process of hand papermaking when Kathryn wanted to use handmade paper for her prints.  She quickly learned that none was being made in the United States at the time.  Thus, began the Clarks quest to make fine handmade paper available.  Working collaboratively in their respective areas of expertise, and through much trial and error, they explored and gained competency in the process of hand papermaking. Their first order for paper came from Roger Levenson of Tamalpais Press, and their circle of collaboration grew.

With the death of Howard’s father in 1972 Howard and Kathryn moved to the Clark family’s farm in Brookston, Indiana, northwest of Indianapolis.  They immediately got to work and built a 24 x 48 foot studio.  As people heard of the Clarks’ work, orders for papers began to come in from all over the U. S., including Pauper’s Press, Landfall Press, and Bird and Bull Press, and the Clarks worked with each press to create a paper to suit their individual needs.

As one approaches the entrance of the exhibit, one sees a portion of the Academy Award nominated film “The Mark of the Maker: Twinrocker – Handmade Paper,“ as it is shown in a continuous loop.  It is a tantalizing tease of what is yet to come.  Several photographs, taken in 1982 and 1983 by Todd Matus, show the Clark family farm and the paper studio in Brookston, Indiana.  The pictures include a somewhat forlorn farmhouse, Kathryn’s studio with several works in progress, and an uncompleted roll that Howard was working on.  Perhaps the most charming photo is of Kathryn examining a newly pulled sheet of paper still on the mold.

The items produced by Twinrocker that are included in the exhibit were produced from the mid 1970s up until the present, and the collaborative nature of the Clarks’ work is evident in everything.  The Clarks worked with the client, be it an individual artist or a press, in order to produce papers that were most suited to the vision of the artist, whether it was for a broadside, book, or painting.  In “Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror,” 1984, the Clarks made round sheets of paper for the Arion Press publication of John Ashbery’s work.  It included original prints by Richard Avedon, Elaine de Koonig, Willem de Koonig, Jim Dine and others.  The Clarks also worked with the artist Chuck Close to create paper for many of his works.  One of his pixelated self-portraits is included in the exhibit.

The books included in this exhibit are stunning.  Through the years the Clarks have collaborated with a large number of private presses, including the Janus Press, Perishable Press, Yolla Bolly Press, Brighton Press, 21st Editions, Pacific Editions, Avit Press, Sherwin Beach Press, and Red Hydra Press.   Most are case bound bindings, but there are a few less traditional structures, like “Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror,”  and concertinas.  The earliest piece in the exhibit, “Aura,” is from 1977.  The 4 foot long landscape of colored pulps illustrates the poem by Hayden Carruth and is clearly a beautiful collaborative effort between Twinrocker and Janus Press.

My favorite book in the entire exhibit is extremely subtle.  It is “Inscription,” by Diane Samuels, 2001.  At first glance it appears to be a leather bound blank book, albeit, a beautifully bound blank book.  Upon closer examination one sees that there actually is  text on the pages, or rather, in the pages, as the text is created in watermarks.

All of the pieces call out to be touched and opened, and closely examined, but that is not possible as they are all behind glass or plexiglass.  So it is good to note that a sample book of  Twinrocker paper is available and allows people to feel the exquisite nature of many Twinrocker papers.

With so many items from Twinrocker available in a single location, this is definitely an exhibit worth seeing.

Marcia Watt

GBW Member, Southeast Chapter

The University of Arizona Art & Conservation Tour

October 18th, 2010

We arrived at the Arizona State Museum on the campus of the University of Arizona (UA).  The building had originally been the school library but was now the anthropological museum, and houses the world’s largest and best collection of Southwest pottery.  Nancy Odegaard, Head of Preservation, called some of the pots on display “rock stars.”  These pots were ones that have been photographed and are in textbooks, etc.  We entered the lab and Nancy gave a brief introduction to all of the staff and the things that were going on.  We were able to examine artifacts from Mexico that were going to be on display in an exhibit that would go up in November.  They did have a few books, but since this is an object conservation lab, no one was really familiar with book conservation.

We then drove over to the Book Art & Letterpress Studio.  This building has just recently been occupied by book people. Phil and Karen Zimmerman have really done a great job getting this facility off the ground.  While there is not a formal book arts program, it is used regularly by students in the art department with instruction from the Zimmermans. The room that the presses are in have lots of natural light.  They have 4 Vandercooks and a C & P to print with and many drawers of type.  The building had been an Italian restaurant and now houses, in addition to the book arts studios, a Mexican restaurant.  What more could a person ask for!  There is also an interesting history, true or not, attached to the building.  It is called the Corleone building because it’s said that mob boss Joe Bonano moved down to Tucson when the heat became to hot for him in NYC and the Italian restaurant was a front  for his dealings.  Joe was purported to lived upstairs in an apartment with his henchmen living next door in an apt. complex also named the Corleone Apts.  The Zimmermans have great plans for the book arts area and soon there will a place for binding and a photo polymer plate room upstairs.

Dennis Jones, Director of the Art Department, came over and we toured the graduate art studio building.  What a building!  It is only 2 years old.  The Art Department took it over from another department and renovated the entire place.  New ventilation was put in for those working with more toxic materials.  They have their own wood shop and metal shop and each grad student has a space in which to create.  The skylights on the roof flood the building with natural light.  I’m sure this is truly a special place to work.

Out last stop was to the Center for Creative Photography.  We were met by Cass Fey, Director of Education.  She talked a little about the Center and the current exhibit,  The Edge of Vision: Abstraction in Contemporary Photography.  We then went upstairs to the viewing room and were shown artist’s books that were photographic in nature.  Jonathan was our moderator.  We sat or stood around while he showed up a variety of books.  Some were from people we weren’t familiar with and others, like Keith Smith, that we were.  We concluded with a little time to walk around the aforementioned exhibit.

With that our day ended.  We got back on the bus and returned to the hotel.  All in all it was a good and interesting day.

Sonja Rossow

Martha Little Speaks at Standards

October 17th, 2010

Knowledge of book history is essential to the investigation of a single binding; a scholar can bring what she knows of a period or place to her study of a specific book. However, by necessity, history generalizes, whereas hand-bound books are as unique (and indeed idiosyncratic) as their binders. Therefore, when examining a book it is often the historical discrepancies—the oddities—that can serve as forensic keys to their histories. As books and binders are individuals, so too are those who examine them. Two scholars examining the same evidence might reach opposing conclusions about its history.

In her afternoon Standards session on October 15, Martha Little began her presentation with the introduction of the above ideas. What followed was a smart and steady stream of illustration by example. First, she explained how two binding scholars, Berthe van Regemorter and Roger Powell, examined the same pair of wooden Egyptian boards and came to wildly different conclusions about how they had been bound. Then she passed around two models: the first bound according to van Regemorter’s theory and the second according to Powell’s. The physical examples (thoughtfully constructed by Little at twice the original size to make them easier to see) made it painfully clear that Powell’s was the more likely theory.

It is tempting to review Little’s illuminating presentation piece-by-piece, but so much was packed in to the three-hour session that it would take pages and pages to do so; so I will summarize. One by one, she brought out books (her own and borrowed from friends) for us to view, pointing out those idiosyncrasies I mentioned earlier, explaining what they revealed and how they led to deeper understanding of the books. What first appeared to be a single volume proved to be two volumes bound into one, likely by an amateur. The direction and quality of markings on a fore-edge implied it was trimmed using a dull-bladed plough. Little demonstrated a simple process, using the reagent potassium iodide, to test for the presence of starch adhesives. She demonstrated a technique, honed at Trinity College, for mapping sewing and tacketing holes in each signature of a book to learn more about original and rebound sewing patterns. Apparently a mouse had feasted on an 1815 volume; his hungry excavation was like an archeological dig, revealing a perfect cross-section of the pasteboard cove.r (Other boards we learned about: pulp board; straw board; and board with an embossed, wove pattern from worn-out woolen couching blankets.)

Somehow, in her engaging litany of things to look for in a book (staining, wear, endbands, sewing holes, types and colors of thread, pest damage, evidence of lacing-on of an over-cover, creases left at the head and tail of the gutter by folding down from a parent sheet…), Little managed to work in a demonstration of cord-making, and a detailed explanation of the finer points of twist direction, and its rather confusing annotation in writings about book archaeology (as in J.A. Szirmai’s The Archaeology of Medieval Bookbinding); for example, 4z/4s/4z/s.

Little delivered a clear and measured presentation of abundant and fascinating content. Her presentation was supported by visual aids: carefully drawn-out illustrations of fiber, yarn, thread, plied thread, re-plied thread, and twist direction. She also sent participants home with a practical handout of features to look for in an examination, attended by this forewarning: “Remember that anything you notice on a binding may be the result of mistakes, inconsistency, lack of skill, whim or innovation. A binder doesn’t always do things that make sense to a future observer or accord with prevalent practice”—a reminder that binding is a people’s practice, replete with human strangeness and imagination.

- Emily Tipps

- SINCE 1906