This month HM is
issuing Reg Lissel, Papermaker presenting a variety of his handmade
papers, along with brief commentaries by him. The papers used to assemble the
20 sets were purchased when he retired from papermaking in 2013, a somewhat
forced retirement sparked by a renoviction from his longtime living space and
workshop in Vancouver's Chinatown. I bought most of what he had on hand at the
time, a mishmash of different sheets from over the years, and put it all in a
box with the vague plan of issuing them as some kind of record of his
work.
© Andrea Taylor 2008
The following profile of Reg was originally
written for the FPBA’s journal Parenthesis (No. 13, 2007). A
slightly revised version was the first chapter of HM’s Elements in
Correlation (2009). The sketch of Reg above was a preperatory drawing by Andrea
Taylor, for a linocut included with that chapter. The paper for that book was
the largest order I’d committed to at the time, and it took Reg about a year to
make the hundreds of sheets needed. The sections below in italic are quotes
from Reg. The sample booklets shown are from HM’s collection and date from 2000
to around 2010.
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*
2007: I FIRST KNEW REG LISSEL as a bookseller, in
the early 1990s, a few years before he quit the business. It was his second
storefront in downtown Vancouver. His first, in an even dodgier part of town,
had been in the same building as Cobblestone Press, the printing shop of the
infamous Gerald Giampa. Reg did not quit bookselling to make paper, but he
started making paper when he quit bookselling.
When
I was starting, there just weren’t that many papermakers around so I was
working in my isolated little universe. I built my own moulds and my first
beater. There were some initial fumbling attempts, recycling newsprint and
stuff. Finally I got a book, The Art of Papermaking by Bernard Toale. It’s got
so much great information, all the basic stuff for Western and Japanese
papermaking. It let me see other papers and figure out how they were made, and
it gave me something to aim for.
By 2001 I had printed a few books, even damping the (mouldmade) papers on a couple. Having crossed paths with Reg frequently since his shop closed I knew what he was up to. When I started getting ambitious and wanted to work with handmade sheets, I chased him down.
My first attempt printing text on Reg’s
paper was a disaster, all of my own making. Printing on a Washington press, I was using four different batches of cotton paper, none of which damped particularly well (or rather, they damped too
well). And so I learned the importance of size, what it does and why it
matters. And here is the beauty of HM’s relationship with Reg: I went back and
told him what had happened, and he understood immediately what the problem was.
He made up a new batch, ratcheting up the internal size. Better, but still a
bit too absorbent. He cranked it up again, and by 2003 we had a decent sheet
that damped well and consistently.
But the surface was still very rough, fine
for books octavo or larger in size, preferably with type no smaller than 14
point. Below that the paper’s texture took on too much prominence. This, Reg
explained, was the result of the beater he was using, a contraption of his own
fabrication...
Reg couching a stack of paper
I
built the tub for that beater out of scraps of wood. I bought a motor from a
scrap yard, and some pulleys and pillow bearings and a steel shaft. The roll
was built out of wood too, with steel bars set in. I worked with that beater
for about eight years. It did the job but it wasn’t heavy and tough enough to
really deal with stronger fibers. It could beat cotton, but it took a long
time.
The next breakthrough in what we christened HM Text came with the arrival from northern B.C. of a professional lab beater. It could beat the fibers much more thoroughly, resulting in a smoother sheet. Then, shortly after the first batches from the new beater were turned out, yet another plateau: the most gorgeous, crisp, smooth white sheets imaginable, the result of a tweak to the recipe and a refined drying technique.
The
first HM Text paper was just pure cotton with size in it, made with the old
beater, & the paper’s a bit soft. The new beater beats the fiber much
better, so it makes a crisper, denser paper. The latest batches of HM Text have
some titanium oxide, kaolin clay and chalk added to the cotton pulp. It makes
the paper more opaque and acts as a filler, so the paper is really smooth. I
also added a step to the drying: I cold press and then let the sheets air dry
for about two hours – just laid out, maybe two sheets together, turned after an
hour. I let it dry in the air a bit but before it starts to shrink, I restack
and give it a couple more heavy pressings. I’ve always been cold pressing and
then just air drying, without the extra pressings. That extra stage of letting
it dry and then pressing makes the sheet even smoother and denser.
The arrival of the beater in 2004, and a
visit that same summer from Claire Van Vliet, resulted in another breakthrough
sheet, what I call Reg’s vellum paper. It is a sheet that feels and acts like
vellum. He can adjust the translucence and tone, from white to dirty old
mottled parchment, in the pulp. The stuff is incredibly tough and makes
beautiful limp vellum-style bindings.
Claire
was inspiring. I really enjoyed the lecture she gave when she was in Vancouver.
She was giving a workshop so I stopped by one day, and she was very generous
with her time. She showed me the abaca vellum she’d been making and it inspired
me. I knew how it was done, so I just had to try it. That was around the same
time I got the new beater, so I had the equipment it required to beat the fiber
stuff for three hours. It’s the long beating time that results in the paper’s
translucence. I just wanted to make it. That’s the real appeal for me, the
beauty of the paper. Sometimes it’s an experiment to see what a certain fiber
will result in. But mostly going for a certain paper is just to see the beauty
of it. I enjoy the process, the movement, the rhythm, the physical work. Making
the same sheet consistently.
2026: EPILOGUE
Vancouver’s Chinatown is on the eastern
edge of the downtown core, and is one of the oldest in North America. It also
abuts the Downtown Eastside, which has the dubious claim to being the most
destitute urban neighborhood in Canada. While Chinatown enjoyed a vibrant
community and culture for most of the 20th century, by the 1990s it was
becoming run-down and somewhat grim. Its proximity to the downtown core,
however, makes it appealing to commercial and residential developers, and
tension has grown between the established Chinese community, advocates for the
Downtown Eastside, and proponents for civic revitalization.
Many of the buildings in Chinatown are
owned by non-profit benevolent associations, and for many years Reg lived in
one of these. It was pretty run down, but that meant it was affordable. In 2013
he was notified the building would be renovated. While his apartment was being
done, he moved to a space on the opposite side of the building. That lasted for
about six months. When his place was ready, he couldn’t afford the increased
rent. Not only did that mean needing a new home, it meant the likely end to his
papermaking adventures.
By that time the physical demands had worn
on him, and in some ways he was ready to hang up his moulds. With a few months’
notice, he sold all the paper he’d stockpiled (as much as I could afford to
me!), some early pulp paintings, and most of his equipment.
Wood engraving by Shinsuke Minegishi on gampi made by
Reg Lissel, from Good & Evil in the Garden (HM, 2003)
The next year was not easy for Reg, as he looked
for a place to live in one of Canada’s most expensive cities. Papermaking was
not on the agenda. During all this HM had moved as well, to Strathcona, a
neighborhood just east of Chinatown. It’s one of the city’s oldest
neighborhoods, and enjoys a more eclectic range of residential architecture and
people than is typical for Vancouver. Across the street from our new home is a
Ukrainian community hall adjoining a three-storey apartment building for people of a certain age. By luck, chance and the lobbying efforts of friends, Reg
got an apartment there, and since 2015 we’ve lived across the street from each
other. I often see him walking to or from the community garden, where he has
several plots that occupy most of his free time. He’s always liked to cook, and
obviously has a fondness for plants, so it comes naturally.
Reg giving a papermaking demo at a community event (2016)
* *
*
Reg Lissel,
Papermaker (HM, 2026) is
issued in an edition of 20 sets (18 for sale). Each set includes 23 different
sample sheets (13 x 18 inches). Most of the sheets are presented as folios
(i.e. folded); a few sheets in short supply are presented as single leaves. Reg
contributed brief commentaries about the stages of papermaking, from choosing
fibers through beating, forming and drying. HM wrote a brief introduction and
note about the ongoing collaboration with Reg to perfect a white sheet for
printing damp.
The text was set in
Optima with Huxley Vertical for display. Most of the sheets where dampened for
printing. The colophons were press-numbered and signed by Reg. The sheets are
presented loose, in a clamshell box, to allow for each to be held and closely
examined. The boxes were made at HM, using four different colors of Japanese
cloth, with painted paper for the trays.
