When I finished printing Dunwich, I collected some of the Bodoni ornament tailpieces used in the book into a single broadside. Twenty-five were editioned, and numbers 1 through 20 were issued with the corresponding book. I also pulled some initial proofs and a handful of extras, all on a variety of papers. I have a small pile of miscellaneous sheets, generally decent sheets but insufficient in quantity to be useful for a project. The 25 numbered copies were printed on Golden Hind; there were proofs on hosho, and exactly 8 on a handmade sheet that was showing significant foxing caused by something in the pulp. It was clearly a handmade sheet, about 150 g, without much (or any) size (i.e. soft).
These four sheets came in a strange group of papers I acquired from the home of a deceased printmaker in town. He had a hoard of interesting papers, but being a printmaker, none in great quantity. The four foxed sheets split to the size of the broadside, and the foxing seemed appropriate for a Dunwich poster, so I added them to the proofing pile.
I obviously didn’t look past all the foxing. I marked the verso of these eight broadsides Pernicious Paper. It was only when I was trimming one down to fit inside a box that I noticed the watermark:
It is also watermarked British Hand Made.
Huh. According to the Allen Press bibliography, the first book they issued with their watermark was Murders at the Rue Morgue, in 1958. It was made by Richard de Bas (probably in 1957, since it would have had to be ready before they started printing the book). They say it was the most beautiful paper they ever used, so probably not what we have here. Plus, wrong country.
For 1968’s The Brothers they switch to a custom sheet from Wookey Hole. I checked that book, it’s a different watermark.
They stick with that until 1972’s The Bacchae, which goes back to R. de Bas.
1974’s Temptation of St Anthony introduces a mouldmade sheet [!], then 1975’s Quartet was printed on a new custom sheet from the St Cuthbert mill.
I lost interest at that point in the pursuit. The real question is, how did a few sheets of the Allens’ paper wind up in the home printing studio of a Vancouver artist who had nothing to do with books or letterpress? We’ll never know, and that’s my favorite kind of ending.
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