New York Historical Society
After a 30 minute ride on the C train, I emerged from the subway to find that the weather had gotten worse while I was underground. Luckily for me though, my destination was only a short block away. Unlike the Hampden-Booth Library, the New York Historical Society wasn’t a small, hidden little building. Rather, it was large, and extremely easy to find (especially since the name was printed on the building. Being early, as usual, I took the opportunity to dry off as I waited for other people to arrive. If it had not been such a gloomy day, I felt that I would have had a nice view of the park (as opposed to the view of Gramercy Park I had at the Hampden-Booth, which I was only able to glimpse at through the iron fence that bordered it). Overall, the area seemed very open and public, especially with the large population of tourists wandering the streets.
Once inside the museum’s library, I felt that it was very similar to the New York Public Library on 42nd street. Like the research library, one has to ask a librarian to get a book off the shelf for them. Despite this small degree of restriction, the room still seemed to give off a comfortable aura of openness and access. I felt at home in a way, like I do when I enter most major public libraries.
The librarian who greeted us further increased my sense of ease. As soon as we walked in, she greeted us with a big smile and urged us to take a seat in front of the numerous old treasures she had set up for us. Not only did she fully explain each manuscript that she had brought out, but also how to find them and other materials in the library using Bobcat. When she mentioned this, I felt slightly embarrassed that I had never bothered to notice the New York Historical Society link on the Bobcat connect page. Although I’m familiar with Bobst and the New York Public Library System, I never really thought about other research libraries that I could use to find information.
What amazed me even more was that we were allowed to touch and interact with the materials that she brought out. As I looked through each book, I felt like a small child who had been allowed to touch something valuable in a museum. It was then that I truly realized that I was in a totally different environment than at the Hampden-Booth. Although both libraries are concerned about the conservation of their materials, they both go about it in different ways. While the Hampden-Booth seems to take the more “we’ll keep it safe and hush hush” approach, the Historical Society was more open with their documents, going so far as to have a full catalogue of their materials online. These thoughts about conservation were an afterthought though. At the moment, all I could think was “ooo…I can touch things! Cool!” (Yes…I’m easily amused; I’m not ashamed of it).
My experience there was such a pleasant one, that I really would like to go back there in a week or two to conduct some of my research for my final paper. With such a friendly staff, as well as reasonable access policies, how could I not? I would really like to look more into their materials about performances, and of course, the collection of Shakespeare’s plays with those wonderfully morbid woodcuts. Most of all though, I think it would be a nice change to do my research in a library other than Bobst or the NYPL.
Intima Press
Being lucky enough to live two blocks away from a 6 train station (Spring Street), I initially thought that I would have no problems at all getting to the class on time. As it turns out, I was only half right. Although I arrived at Union Square at exactly 9:05, it would be another half an hour before I would find Mindy’s studio. Feeling like a tourist in a neighborhood I thought I knew well, I reluctantly asked three people for directions to 2 Union Square East, getting a different answer each time. During my half hour of confused wandering, I was lucky enough to run into Orianna and Michelle, making me feel less alone in my search. After three calls, I finally got in touch with Mindy, who told us that she was at 32 Union Square, not 2. Thankful to learn that we weren’t completely hopeless with directions, we quickly made our way to the studio, where we found Parisa and Mindy waiting for us.
Once we were all settled, Mindy gave us a condensed history of printmaking, from cave drawings to moveable type. One important point that she stressed was that the development of Gutenberg’s printing press with moveable type was truly a large achievement, for it meant that books could be produced more quickly and distributed more widely than those that were handwritten. If a person wanted to find a book on a certain subject, they could simply buy one rather than copy a handwritten volume manually. Also, during this short talk, she showed us a few examples of printed works to illustrate that print should be “three dimensional.” Unlike the materials produced by modern laser printers, works produced by a printing press have a physical depth to them, which gives them an aesthetic appeal.
Afterwards, once we had quickly decided whose sonnet to print (Parisa’s selection, Sonnet 116), Mindy took us into the main part of the studio where we became acquainted with the printing press, the California Job Case, and the composing stick. Once we became familiar with the job case as well as how to hold the composing stick, we each began to complete a line or two from the sonnet. Although it was meticulous work, I found myself having fun putting the letters and words together on the composing stick precisely for that reason. It made me appreciate how technology has made it so much easier to print materials. Despite my lifelong love of books, literature, and writing, I realized that I had always taken printed works and laser printers for granted. If people wanted to print a book or a broadside, they had to use this method, which seems crazy to many people in our modern, fast paced society. If you make a mistake on a word processor, it’s a simple action of deleting and re-writing. However, when we were editing the mistakes in our sonnet (replacing an apostrophe with a comma, adding a period, etc), it was a more difficult and meticulous process. As much as I love works printed with a printing press and think they‘re absolutely beautiful, at the same time, I’m glad that I didn’t have to write my reaction paper using one.
The most satisfying part of the workshop was when we got to print the final copies of the sonnet ourselves using the printing press. Even though it was only a few lines of poetry, I still felt like I had accomplished something when I looked at what I had printed. My only other printing experience was on the last day of my medieval art summer class in fifth grade. The last project we had to do involved carving a stamp out of linoleum square, inking it, and pressing it. I never got to the inking and pressing stage thought because I had to get three stitches on my left thumb due to a carving accident. I really enjoyed my experience at Intima Press because not only did I not cut open any of my fingers, but I was also able to actually finish a printing project and feel satisfied with the results.
Gutenberg Bible
After checking out a book for my research paper from the Donnell Library on 53rd street, I walked down a few blocks to the New York Public Library of Humanities and Social Sciences to see the Gutenberg Bible exhibit. Being a literary geek, I had been to the main library many times before, thus guaranteeing a smooth trip there. After the confusion of trying to find Intima Press the day before, it felt good to be able to find something easily.
Once I had reached the exhibition room on the third floor, it took me a few minutes before I realized where the Gutenberg Bible was hidden amongst the larger exhibit about the history of male fashion. Although it seemed lonely and out of place amid the displays of dandies and pictures of frilly collars, I still found myself staring at it for a good ten minutes. After having to set a line and a half of type the other day, I felt that I could truly appreciate the work that went into producing this bible. It also made me realize again how much we take printed editions for granted. As others walked by the display case, they merely saw it as an old book rather than one of the biggest achievements of its time. They would stare at it for a few seconds, say “oh, how nice, an original Gutenberg Bible,” and walk away. These words are a stark contrast to those of the European agent of James Lennox, the man who gave one of the remaining Gutenberg Bibles to the U.S. in 1847. As the Bible passed through customs, Lennox’s agents demanded that the customs officials remove their hats upon viewing it. Living in a modern world, I guess we’re just a little spoiled when it comes to printed books.
One thing that always bothers me just a tiny bit when I look at books in display cases is that I only get to see two pages of the entire book. It’s not so much that I can’t touch it, but that I can’t see it in its entirety. There’s always a part of me that wonders what the other pages look like, what images and words they hold, especially illuminated works. However, at the same time, I do understand that it’s more of a question of preservation than of my personal curiosity. With only 48 remaining copies remaining in the world, I do realize why one cannot be put at the mercy of the public to touch and examine. In the end, I was simply content to be able to look at one of the greatest masterpieces of mankind through a glass panel, after which I walked across the hallway to check out a book from the research library, thus appropriately ending my weekend of books and printing.
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