In the coming spring, the bookbinding department plans to take a trip to England to visit notable libraries, conservation labs, binderies, and equipment suppliers. As this educational trip is outside the normal curriculum and we are responsible for our own travel costs, we have begun fundraising by doing what we do best: making books. This is also an excellent opportunity for us to get some experience in a more production style of working – rather than the single-item focus that our projects usually take.

This year, we created a small “edition” of sewn board bindings to sell at the school’s annual open house and the Boston International Antiquarian Book Fair . This particular structure, designed by Gary Frost, takes advantage of the sewing and board attachment features of the earliest form of the codex but has a final form that is more in-line with a modern case binding. Like the Ethiopian and Coptic bindings that I shared some time ago, the sewn board binding exhibits unsupported sewing, a squareless cover ( i.e. cut flush to the text), and boards sewn directly to the sections. In the Ethiopian binding, the sewing passes through a lacing path drilled through the board, while in the sewn board structure, the covers are composed of folios of thin card that are “sewn to the text as if they were outermost sections of the book”  (Booklab Booknote 8, p. 2). Frost (2004) describes the “particular attribute of the through the fold sewing pattern across the entire bound book” as a “secure cover to text attachment”, providing “exemplary docile, flat opening”. This helpful feature provides a “full gutter reveal” so that books with text are more easily scanned or copied, while blank books are more easily inscribed. The textblock of the sewn board structure has little or no shoulder, requiring “no damaging or distorting backing of the outermost gatherings” (Frost, 2004). In addition, the squareless cover prevents the textblock from sagging when shelved upright.

A description of the benefits of the sewn board structure is all well and good – but a description of the production may be more useful to the reader. We began the project by outlining the materials required and individual steps of the project. Each person would make 12 books, and each book required 4 sections of text paper, 2 folios of endsheet paper, and 2 folios of 20 pt board for the covers, as well as filler board, book cloth, and decorative paper covering. Jobs were distributed among the first years: a person was assigned to each board sheer, cutting specific dimensions of paper and board, while another group of students gathered around a large table, dividing up the stacks of paper and folding sections.

Next the folded sections were distributed into even piles, placed between boards, and pressed overnight.

The next day, endsheet folios were tipped on to the outer sections with PVA (polyvinyl acetate) and the sections and boards of each volume were pre-pierced for sewing using a guide. The sewing pattern of 6 sewing stations is the same used for link stitching across linen tapes. The two outermost stations are used for the conventional kettle stitch, while the other pairs of stations provide another link. When the thread exits the section at one station pair, it is linked through the sewing of the lower section, creating a support. The picture below (found at random through the interwebs because I failed to take a decent picture of my own) illustrates the pattern.

At this stage, the cover folio was also filled by tipping in a 4ply museum board at the fold with PVA. This will make a much thicker (and more pleasing looking) board later in the process. When sewn, my own stack of books looked like this:

The next stage of the process involved lining the spines. Each book was pasted up with Aytex-P wheat starch paste and lined with a piece of Kizukishi Japanese tissue that extended on to each board about 1/8″. Etherington and Roberts (1982) indicate that the purpose of the spine lining is “to support it and to impart a certain degree of rigidity while still maintaining the necessary flexibility for proper opening” and that the “weight and stiffness of the spine lining material is of considerable importance.” In this case, we wanted to maintain the significant flexibility of the structure, so no subsequent paper or textile linings were applied. After lining, the spines look like this:

Up to this point, all of the book structures in the first year curriculum have been methodically trimmed, section by section, before sewing using the board shear. This process takes a considerable amount of time, so for our production project (and in accordance with Frost’s instructions found in the Iowa Book Works Kit) we trimmed the edges after sewing in a guillotine (or “hand lever cutter” – kind of like these). This gives the edges a very even, almost machined look. (When all stacked up, I kind of think they look like a layer cake.)

In the next step, little corners of book cloth were adhered with PVA to cover the areas of exposed board at the spine edges of the head and tail.

These add a little refinement to the finished product (as you will see shortly). In this stage, a filler card of 10 pt board was attached to the outside of the cover folios in order to even out the added thickness of the spine covering (that will be added in a later step).

The layers of the covers were then adhered together with 3M #414 Polyester Double sided tape. This allows the layers of board to be laminated together quickly, without the risk of warping from moisture in the adhesive or the requisite long pressing time.

With the boards now solid, book cloth spine strips were adhered with PVA. The spine covering is not adhered completely to the spine, but on the boards about a 1/4″ from the spine edge. This allows for a firm attachment of the material, but without restricting the opening of the book.

Finally, the books were covered with decorative paper. In many cases, we used paste papers that we had made in class a few weeks before.

Instead of gluing out the entire sheet of paper, the final board covering is “drummed” on. In other words, the edges of the sheet are brushed out with adhesive and the sheet is applied tightly across the board. Much like the method of board lamination, the drummed on paper allows the boards to be quickly covered while remaining flat. The endsheets are similarly treated; adhesive is applied to only the edges of the pastedown. The result is a thin book with thick boards and a flat spine. Here is an example I made with Italian marbled paper (by Atelier Flavio Aquilina) .

As you can see, the spine tabs and flush-cut boards give the book a very finished appearance while not sacrificing the flexibility of the opening.

Here is a view of the inside “paste-down” and flyleaf.

We had a lot of fun with this project. The sewn board structure is quite versatile and can be embellished with edge decoration and leather spines or simplified according to one’s taste. These books are also easily stamped – the spine can be stamped before being adhered to the board or the covers stamped after finishing. I also really enjoy the way that these books open. I think that I will use this structure for all of my future notebooks. As a conservation student, I will also be on the lookout for instances in which this particular structure might be used as a viable treatment option. I cannot sum up the advantages of the sewn board binding better than Gary Frost (2004) when he concludes, “This book conservation structure is based on historical prototypes, the historical techniques are adapted to contemporary production methods and the specific sewn board practice is directed to the best applications.”

As a first year at NBSS, we make many, many simple book structures in a given week. Plain paper coverings get old rather quickly, so as you can imagine we go through a huge amount of decorative paper. A couple of weeks ago the entire bookbinding department spent the day making paste papers. These papers are created with a paste and paint mixture and are common board covering and endsheet materials for books in the 16th-18th century. If you would care to get an idea of some traditional paste paper patterns, the University of Washington Library has a small collection of digital images available online (found here). Of course modern book artists and crafty individuals love paste papers because of their ease of production and versatility; I’d also wager that their popularity stems from the fact that they are kind of like finger painting in their execution. Case in point, Martha Stewart has even done a segment on paste papers with Sage Reynolds.

I approached this work day as an opportunity to experiment with materials, and, therefore, didn’t really study up on historical patterns and colors – so my papers are kind of all over the place. There is a lot of literature out there on decorative paper for books, so I plan on being a little more focused the next time I do this.  I’ll briefly describe how we went about making these papers and then share some of my results.

First off, we all rummaged through our respective basements, attics, and closets or went down to the local dollar store, drug store, etc. and grabbed any small object that we thought might make an interesting pattern. Combs, forks, potatoes, brushes, legos, toy trucks – you name it, we brought it in.

Then we made paste. There are literally hundreds of recipes out there for paste papers – Richard Miller put out a long list in 1995 on the Book Arts Listserv (found here)  – but basically the paste is made by cooking starch and water. You can use wheat starch, corn starch, or even cake flour.

Everyone seems to have a different opinion about which starches and starch to water ratios produce the best results. Some individuals advocate using methyl cellulose instead of paste. Having made few paste papers in my life, I have no real opinion one way or another. Rather than pick and choose, we went ahead and made 6 to 10 different mixtures to see how they compared.

After straining the paste and letting it cool, we divided it up into small bowls and added acrylic paint.

The result is a nice, thickly colored paste.

This process can be messy, so everyone cut a large sheet of mylar to protect their bench.

We used 1/2 sheets of Mohawk Superfine for all our paste papers. This type of paper is economical,  good quality, and a 15″ x 20″ sheet will provide more than enough material for a few of our model-sized books. When the work space is ready, the sheet is wet out with a damp sponge. This allows the fibers of the paper to relax in preparation for receiving the paste. The moisture also keeps the sheet stuck to the mylar during the patterning.  The colored paste is then evenly brushed out onto the page and a tool is drawn across it to make patterns in the paste.  I started off with a small square that would give me evenly spaced lines.

After dragging it across the page in several directions, I got this pattern.

This is pretty rough-looking  because it was done free-hand. To make it look nicer, I really should have constructed a tool as wide as the entire sheet and set up the space with a guide on one side so that my lines are really straight and even all the way across. When the patterning is accomplished, the wet sheet is put in a drying rack for a bit.

With so many people working at once, we quickly ran out of racks – so after each sheet had some time to firm up, we moved them to a clothesline to finish drying.

Below are some examples of the papers that I made. The first was made with that same plastic square.

This one was done with an “afro pick“.

I made a few calm ones with sponges.

I also made a few that had a little too much going on…

During the course of this, I tried to make a few papers that can be used for an upcoming project – the German paper binding or “pappband”. To get the appropriate pattern, one either sticks the freshly pasted paper together and pulls it apart or uses a sponge. In keeping with the historical examples that I’ve seen (like the one below), I tried to go with dreary, sort of ugly colors.

Below are some of those that I produced.

I confess that I’m not very good at the whole choosing sympathetic colors and patterns thing. I’m pretty jealous of a lot of paste papers that my classmates came up with. But the advantage of paste papers is that they are cheap and easy to produce – so I have plenty of opportunities to practice. In the meantime, I’ll be looking for specific examples in library collections to copy.

Next time, I’ll be sharing a recent production project that made use of these paste papers!

I realized after my last post that when I took these pictures I did not include anything for scale. Therefore you (the gentle reader) have no idea what size these books really are. All of the models pictured are in fact quite small; the finished page size is about 15.5 cm tall x 11.5cm wide.

We continued our exploration of non-adhesive structures with a variety of long and link stitch bindings. The first was a simple link stitch with covers of single folios of decorated paper sewn through the fold. The folios were then sealed shut with double-sided tape to make a stiffer cover. Unlike the Ethiopian and Coptic bindings, these bindings are all sewn with a single needle.

The long stitch structures are all sewn through slots or holes in the covering material. As this style of binding can become very complex, I began with the most straightforward of pattern in a slotted wrapper of 20pt board.

The covers in my first model are cut to include a fore-edge flap for added protection to the pages. While the sewing can be a bit tricky to start, I was surprised at how stiff the cover attachment became in the end. It opens quite well.

I had a bit of the University of Iowa Case Paper lying around, so a made a better looking version of the same sewing pattern – only this time with a yapp at the fore edge.

After making a few entirely limp structures, we watched a video of  Adam Larsson’s 2004 Guild of Book Workers presentation about a collection of Medieval limp vellum and leather structures found at the Uppsala University Library. The collection originates from a monastery library and contains around 1000 volumes. Many of the items in this collection have stiff spine plates made of wood, horn, or leather and can be highly decorated with inlays or weaving over the exposed sewing.  The covers are usually leather lined with linen cloth (sometimes cut flush with the pages at the head and tail, sometimes turned-in) with a fore-edge flap that ties to buttons on the front cover or spine plate. Larsson reports that while the text of these volumes is typically on paper, the innermost folios of each section are either made of or guarded with vellum. It would appear that the original binders did not believe that the strength of paper alone was enough to hold the sewing together.

After showing a series of images from the Uppsala collection, Larsson demonstrates one of these structures with link sewing and buttons across the spine plate. While the pattern looks very simple on the outside, it is actually very difficult to follow. Larsson is quite fast in his demonstration and the instructions become a  blur of “in section 1, station 2. out station 2, row 1. in station 2, row 2 into section 2, station 2…” Luckily, someone from a previous class was kind enough to make a transcript of the instructions, and after much cursing and resewing, everyone ended up with their own model. My version has case paper covers and a spine plate made from two strips of vellum adhered to a leather core. The ties are woven linen thread that is stitched through the fore-edge flap.

This one also opens quite nicely – although the buttons on the spine do make it wobble around on the table surface.

For my second attempt, I worked on a long stitch structure with elements based upon the common features in the Uppsala collection. This one also has case paper covers and a layered spine plate of vellum and leather. The designs are made by shaping and punching the outermost layer of vellum to reveal the leather underneath. The exposed sewing is woven on the outside of the spine plate and the edges of the covers protected with sewn-on strips of leather.

I had a lot of fun with these limp structures and I will continue to experiment. There are so many different variations of sewing patterns and materials that, as Larsson says in the video, “the only limit is your imagination.” I am currently working on another model with a stained maple spine plate that I hope to share soon. I also found a thin brass plate the other day that I’d like to try out. But more on that later…

Next up, I’ve got pictures from our recent sharpening workshop.

In the first few weeks of school, we started with non-adhesive structures. As one  of the oldest known forms of the codex, it is fitting that we started with Coptic style bindings. These bindings have chain stitch sewing that laces through the board. The sewing is done through pairs of sewing stations with a needle on each end of the thread. All of these models (unless otherwise indicated) are made with Mohawk Superfine paper and Davey Board covers. The holes in the board were created with a pin vise. The first model was made with no decoration or embellishment to get a sense of the structure.

(Click pictures to enlarge.)

In this style of binding, the boards are cut flush with the textblock. (Please forgive the crazy colors in these photos… I’m still trying to figure out how to set the white balance on the camera.)

One of the benefits of this binding structure is that it opens completely flat.

As with learning any new skill, practice and repetition are important – so I proceeded to  make a few more of these. First with some decorative paper covering the boards…

… then with a Coptic-style endbands. With this one, I moved the outermost sewing stations in a bit and pre-punched the sections for the endbands. I followed Greenfield and Hille’s instructions and after only about 5 attempts, succeeded in creating something akin to a Coptic headband. However, just a day or two ago while rummaging around the shelves in the workshop, I found a model supposedly done by Adam Larsson (the conservator, not the hockey player) that has an absolutely amazing set of Coptic endbands with links that are way tighter than mine. So I’ll have to work on those.

Next I tried some variation in the color of thread to create a nice pattern.

As well as some crazy marbled paper inside.

I also created a model with quarter sawn oak boards. The holes in these boards were created with a hand drill (like this one) and the bevel was made with a rasp. They were finished with a light coating of Renaissance Wax and polished.

Finally, I attempted a cloth-covered model with the Ethiopian style of leather headbands. The endbands themselves are made with two strips of leather laced together, and while they look nice enough, they put so much extra material in the joint that the boards splay out. 

I guess historically these books would be made with wooden boards and completely covered in leather, so the effect wouldn’t be quite so pronounced. But as for this model, I was not so enthusiastic about the result.

In the next few posts I’ll share some other types of non-adhesive bindings, as well as some pictures from our recent knife making/sharpening workshop with Jeff Peachey. Stay tuned!