Lines, Blocks, Colors

That’s one of the five (i.e. six, with one H.C. copy) boxed copies of Jim Rimmer’s Pie Tree Press. 

 

 

In addition to the book, it includes the 12-page prospectus Jim printed for Leaves from the Pie Tree; a copy of a small broadside, featuring a Robert Kroetch poem, illustrated & printed by Jim (and signed by him and the poet); a complete set of the 13 “unobtainable ornament” cards he issued in 1981 (each set has at least one card in facsimile); and a few pages of Jim’s text from the miniature book Duensing Titling (HM 2003). With that, all of the copies from the edition have been issued and I’m moving on to the next project. 

The first page of the JR book starts with a quote from him about why he found linocuts such a satisfying and expressive medium. It’s taken from an interview he did with Jessica Spring in 2008, available on the Boxcar Press site.

Most of his prints were created from up to seven different blocks, each one printing different elements of the final image in a specific color. I’ve been looking at a number of his prints over the past month, and been fascinated by his composition, his ability to see how the different layers (i.e. colors) will combine, how one color will overlay another in some places to create a third hue.

Whether intentional or a happy accident, this overlapping style meant printing the blocks usually didn’t require terrifically tight registration when printing. Given the number of extra prints he made for his projects (viz. all the ones I found and used for the new book) I think he really enjoyed printing them, and didn’t just stop when he had enough for the edition.  Plus he was always giving things away to the many people who visited his studio. He probably liked having something on hand to give. 

You don’t see a lot of multicolour lino prints in contemporary press, compared to wood engravings. (Nor do you see a lot of multicolour engravings; it’s a lot of fussy work.). Because the material and tools required can be quite simple, I think some people have dismissed lino as too coarse or unrefined for a Fine Press Book. (To be fair, there are a lot of books out there with indifferent or sloppy linocuts.) I don’t know what those people would say to Picasso. When I was working on Oddballs with Jim Westergard, he told me he could achieve the same detail in lino as he could in wood; the tricky part would be how the Lino would hold up when printing. We talked about doing an experiment where he’d engrave the same image on wood and lino, and we’d print them side by side, to see if people could tell which was which. Unfortunately we never got around to it. But here’s an example, by Clifford Cyril Webb, of the detail that can be achieved with lino (sadly he doesn’t seem to have done many prints like this, perhaps too labor intensive):

All that got me thinking, what are the top books with multicolour linocuts I can think of? Here’s my list. It’s completely subjective and doesn’t include any of the many books and artists I don’t even know about. 

First has to be Kuthan’s Menagerie, for obvious corporate reasons. Like Jim, Georges Kuthan seems to have found tremendous expression in the medium. He died in 1966, but I believe Jim knew him at least in passing, and would have seen his linocuts.  

Jim’s Tom Sawyer would be my pick from his bibliography, if only for the 50+ images printed within the text, in addition to the multicolour prints tipped in. 

Lincouts are included in a number of Walter Bachinski’s Shanty Bay books, but perhaps most prominently in their spectacular Circus: The Artist as Saltimbanque. (A saltimbanque is a travelling or street performer; I had to look it up.)

Vance Gerry’s Selected Shore Plants of Southern Califonia (Weather Bird Press, 1992) is worth including in this list. I had a copy, bought in the early years of my education. Copies were around and cheap for years but now it seems to have gotten some recognition. I eventually found the text printing too weak, the face ugly, and the paper too thick. But he was a handpress printer, and the linocuts are lovely. 

Tom Killion’s Fortress Marin seems to be the only book published that features his multicolor linos. I like that he let the images offset to the versos, although I also wonder if this was an unintentional result of lazy printing. I have used this technique when printing wood engravings on thin Japanese paper, to achieve greater opacity (you pull an inked impression without paper in the press, so it prints to the packing; the you pull an inked impression on paper, and the image simultaneously offsets to the very from the packing). I haven’t been able to find the source, but I’m sure I first learned of this in something William Everson wrote. Since Killion was in Everson’s orbit, it’s entirely possible he got the idea the same way. 

Richard Tetrault is a Vancouver artist who has been working with multiblock linocuts for years, but I don’t believe he’s done any books (there are a couple that reproduce his linocuts, but that doesn’t count). 

I’m going to end with a cheat, a book with and about multicolor wood engravings: Whittington Press’s Pastorale (2011), specifically the issue in full vellum. The focus of this book — how the paper used affects the printed image – is a long-standing interest of mine. I’ve lusted for this book for several years, but always end up being put off by what I think is an anemic type (Caslon). John Randle might consider those fighting words. Jim Rimmer would have for certain.

A Visit With Jim Rimmer (Pt. 2)

 

HM’s new book, about Jim Rimmer’s Pie Tree Press & Type Foundry, is out this month. It includes a short essay about Jim’s work by The Aliquando Press’s Will Rueter, followed by a descriptive checklist of the books Jim issued from his press. Each copy also includes an original, initialed color linocut by Jim from one of his books. I had 45 prints, so the edition is just 40 numbered and five hors commerce copies. 

For a variety of reasons, Jim’s books are more widely known of than actually seen. HM’s book was conceived to provide some sense of Jim’s work for people who haven’t had the chance to own one of his books. 

 

Each copy also includes two cards (from a set of 13) he issued in 1981, showing the various “unobtainable ornaments” available from his foundry. Every copy includes Jim’s Apologia (below, left), plus one of the display cards.

Much of the fun in compiling the bibliography was running down variant issues of several books. To augment the new book, here follow images of some of the more unusual items and variations....

The first book issued (but not the first printed...) by Pie Tree was done in an edition of just one copy. Luckily he bound up a second, and it now resides, along with a large archive of Jim’s work, at Simon Fraser University. 

Pie Tree’s second book, Shadow River, has the most convoluted history, spanning three years, two settings, and three issue states (or four, depending how you count). Above is the true first (1996). Jim was teaching typography, printing and illustration at a two-year college program in 1994, and he proposed making the end result a book, produced by the students. Each would create a linocut for a Pauline Johnson poem, and everyone would participate in the setting and printing. The project fell apart, for several reasons, one being that much of the student’s work (including linoblocks) was thrown out during a Christmas break! 

 

Two of the students hadn’t left their blocks at the school, and were able to subsequently print them. Jim went ahead an produced the book himself, cutting blocks for each of the poems, and issued the book in an edition of 40. The last five copies (only) included the print the two students, Monica Serwa and Edward Vandervelden, had completed. Here’s Monica’s...

And here’s Edward’s...

 

If Jim’s intention had been that the two students get one of the copies with their print, it didn’t happen: Edward didn’t even know the book had been completed until I managed to track him down earlier this year.

That’s the title page from second (1997), & most commonly seen version. Notice the woman turned her chair around, and got bigger? It’s colophon hints at some of the turmoil in the book’s production...

Below is what might be a unique copy of the second issue, with a completely different colophon...

Finally, in 1999 Jim completely reset in the book, in Centaur, and printed 15 copies for family & friends... 

... except he later reported only seven were bound up. But at least one copy out there lacks this correction to the colophon. 

His fifth book was Leaves From the Pie Tree, in which he recounted how he was press-ganged into the compositing trade by his grandfather, eventually set out as a freelance graphic artist, and started designing metal and digital types. It’s an entertaining read, enlivened with various linocuts and type samples throughout. The edition was just 40 copies, but actually there were another 10, issued through the digital foundry P22. The idea for it must have come up after he’d finished the book; copies were only available with the purchase of Jim’s digital fonts from the foundry.

Time to start drinking brandy and do battle with this bug (again). I’ll end with different copies of Shadow River; each copy features its own unique printing with cedar fronds. 

 

A Visit With Jim Rimmer (Pt. 1)

 

HM’s checklist of books issued by Jim Rimmer’s Pie Tree Press & Type Foundry will be ready for distribution next month. To coincide with publication  – and augment the checklist – the October post will feature images of his books (& variants). Before all that, this month’s post features links to sources about Jim and his work as a printer and type designer.

 

Many people know of Jim’s books but haven’t actually ever seen one. There are several reasons for this: some editions were small, 50 copies or less. Some editions where never fully issued, his enthusiasm to complete binding waning as sales stalled, which happened because like many private printers, he found self-promotion distasteful. HM’s book was sparked by the acquisition of 45 linocuts from two of his books, and some typographic cards he printed, a year or two after his death in 2010. I had no idea what to do with them, so they sat in a box, but over the years the idea of using his prints as an introduction to his private printing, for the people who’ve never seen the actual books, developed.

 
As an introduction, the HM book includes a four-page profile of Jim written by Will Rueter (the text is adapted from a longer piece published in Devil’s Artisan in 2003), which focuses primarily on his typographic work. The book also includes samples of the types Jim designed and cut in metal, but those are just a slice of his typographic output. A more comprehensive accounting can be seen on Luc Devroye’s site. 

 

Jim lived most of his life in New Westminster, a city jammed up against Vancouver. I first met him in Colophon Books when he was accompanying a younger colleague who was soliciting orders for a book he was publishing (see here for the story about that ill-fated adventure). Anyone getting involved with letterpress in Vancouver in the 1990s would have known Jim’s name, but I had been cautioned away from contacting him for help by someone who said he wasn’t interested in casting type for other people. It was the irascible Washington state printer Chris Stern (Grey Spider Press) who informed me, a few years later, in heated & no uncertain terms, that this was not true, and that I and everyone else in Vancouver did not appreciate the living legend who walked among us. So I called Jim and he said what he probably said to anyone who called asking for help: come on by. 

From about 2002 until his death, I would go out to Jim’s house once or twice a year. In 2003 he gave me a font of his 60-pt Duensing Titling type, and I thought it was the perfect size for a miniature book. He agreed to write a short preface and we published it that same year. He also cast a couple of drawers of Garamont (an odd face) for me that year, which I used for HM’s first book with Barbara Hodgson. Around that time we talked about him designing and cutting a proprietary face for HM, and setting me up with my own casting equipment. I didn’t have a particular sense of what my own type might look like, and I had no desire to play with molten alloys, so neither proposal came to anything. But talking with Jim about those kinds of things was always fun. 

Jim’s past book, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, was a tour de force of one person’s vision directing every aspect of design. He started by cutting in metal a 14-pt type, aptly named Hannibal, to set the text. He then created dozens of linocuts to illustrate the story, printed it all in a robust large quarto format, printed the binding papers with one of the elaborate printer’s ornament designs he was known for, and bound the copies. The only thing he didn’t do was make the paper. Here’s a link to an article from Parenthesis about the project, and here’s one from one of the local newspapers.  

Simon Fraser University’s retired head of special collections, Eric Swanick, has worked on an exhaustive checklist of items printed by Jim (most of his work was for others). It was first published in
Devil’s Artisan #66 (2010), followed by a supplement in #91 (2022). While at SFU he acquired a large archive of material by and about Jim (see here), including work from his early days as a freelance graphic designer (including a ’70s era logo for Heart). Eric’s 2012 discussion about Jim with Nigel Beale can be heard here. 

 

In 2006 Swanick and SFU Library organized a “Rimmerfest” to celebrate Jim and his work. A video of the evening, including the man himself, can be seen here. It captures his gentleness and humor, and the wide range of people he inspired and helped. 

Richard Kegler, founder of the digital foundry P22, made the documentary Making Faces about Jim in 2011. A review of the film can be found here.

 

The Boxcar Press blog posted three articles about/interviews with Jim, which can be found here. 

Jason Dewinetz’s Greenboathouse Press site includes this page about acquiring much of Jim’s casting equipment after his death. Jason has plans for his own Rimmer-related book in the next year or two.

Next month, some details of the HM book and images from the six books published by Pie Tree Press & Type Foundry.

Will Rueter's Last Aliquando Book (not really)

 

Another guest blog, this month Will Rueter of The Aliquando Press, writing about his avocation of six decades, over 100 books, and his latest & last (sort of)...

 

 + + +

 

Thanks to the suggestion (and generosity) of Our Heavenly Monkey himself, this is my first blog. I’m very honoured to use this space to celebrate The Aliquando Press’ 60th anniversary.

 

In December of last year The Aliquando Press completed the printing of its last book. My concentration needed for longer-term projects was diminishing, my eyesight wasn’t good enough for setting small sizes of type, and the realities of life outside my private press world needed more attention. It was time to stop printing before I really screwed up. 

 

For almost five months before and after the Press’ closure I packed, distributed, founted, and helped move seemingly tons of type and equipment, and then unpacked countless boxes in our basement, where I continue to discard detritus from the Press. (Moral: When in doubt - or not – THROW OUT! You really can’t print on postage-stamp-sized offcuts or use two-decades-old grotty ink.) Happily, the temporal Press in all its manifestations has found good homes, most specifically at Massey College, University of Toronto, where students will be able to use my collection of typefaces that represents more than five centuries of letterform design. The idea of the Press and its potential remain with me, but I haven’t had time to grieve over its demise.

 

The last Aliquando Press book, Serious Play, is the summation of an idea that took root in December 1962. At art school I realized that I had found a passion for typographic design and specifically that I wanted to make books. Operating a private press as an avocation allowed me to learn the basic skills of book making and create books for pleasure. My fascination with book design led me to a career designing academic books for the University of Toronto Press and my naive early attempts at printing became a life-long obsession.

For about ten years I klutzed about, enjoying choosing texts, collecting and experimenting with type, colour, and paper, and learning simple binding. Eventually I realized that the pleasure element, while still evident, was giving way to the challenge of producing more serious books and printing.

 

I’ve always been obsessed with the austere beauty of books from T.J. Cobden-Sanderson’s Doves Press. His book design is magnificently minimal. In my own printing I’ve tried to strike a balance between C-S’s vision of the Book as a pure, sin-free ideal and the raucous, get-your-hands-dirty approach of the printer who actually enjoys printing. The truth lies somewhere in between.

For six decades the Press has been an alter ego, reflecting (I hope) my better qualities and tolerating my more objectionable ones. It has taught me as much patience and curiosity as I am ever likely to have. Through its activity I have met and made friends that I never expected, and I have been able to admire and (full disclosure) envy the work of many private presses. The solitary nature of operating a private press has been balanced by the Press’ many friends and mentors, from whom I have learned so much and whose camaraderie I value greatly.

 

HM asked me to add photos and comments about some recent Aliquando Press books that might be of interest to viewers. The final book from the Press is Serious Play, cobbled together from Daniel Berkeley Updike’s Printing Types: Their history, forms and use. I hadn’t paid much attention to Updike’s writings until relatively recently. His passion for typefaces, well-made books, and Doing.Things.Right. increases my respect for him. I added a fairly brief Afterword to Updike’s text as a ‘memoir’ of the Press and how much it has meant to me.

The book (25.5 x 16.5 cm, 41 pages) was set in Jim Rimmer’s  Nephi Medieval and Duensing Titling types and printed on Zerkall and Hahnemuhle papers. I played with Glint ornaments (the first ornaments bought for the Press decades ago) to create the initials. There are also a few photos showing my old studio. As with most Aliquando Press books, the edition is 40 copies, quarter bound in linen cloth with my own decorated paper on the boards.

In contrast, Steale Not Thys Book (11.5 x 9.5 cm, 31 pages) has gone over to the truly ridiculous side. It’s a small book of warnings and invectives, printed on Hahnemuhle  Archiv paper and using the full arsenal of the Press’ type, cuts, and ornaments, and bound in various marbled and decorated papers. Whenever I look at it I’m reminded why private printing is also supposed to be fun.

I’ve always enjoyed alternating the printing of prose and poetry. A chance encounter with Michelangelo’s sonnets in translation made them the perfect choice for a late Aliquando Press book. Beauteous Art’s Embrace (18 x 12cm, 28 pages) is set in Blado italic with Hadriano initials and Primula ornaments, printed on mouldmade Zerkall Nideggen paper, and quarter bound in Nepalese ‘sun print’ paper. I find Michelangelo’s thoughts on art and life very comforting at this stage of my life.

Having printed a number of Cobden-Sanderson’s thoughts on books and printing over the years, I wanted to complete the cycle with something more intimate. My final C-S book, Work & Beauty: Selected writings of Thomas James Cobden-Sanderson (16 x 11 cm, 33 pages) is set in the beautiful Trajanus type of Warren Chappell, printed on vintage Golden Hind paper, and produced to match – more or less – the format of C-S’s octavo Doves Press books.

William Morris has also received late attention from the Press. In A Visit with William Morris (16 x 12 cm, 41 pages) I reconstructed his words from four contemporary interviews to reveal an informal side of the master printer. The book was set in a version of his Kelmscott type and it includes my Cavatina ornaments and a reproduction of a wood-engraved portrait of Morris. It’s bound with a medieval-style overlapping cover.

 

I have loved music all my life and several Aliquando books have been inspired by music. My final offering is Laudes Musicae: Words in praise of music (18 x 12.5 cm, 45 pages), a compendium of quotations using a wide variety of type, paper, and ornaments. It’s my homage to the most consistent, comforting, and sustaining of the arts.

 

The general typographic style of The Aliquando Press has always been on the conservative side of conservatism (thanks to Cobden-Sanderson’s influence), but over the years I’ve enjoyed experimenting with ornament combinations, colour, formats, and papers. One of the biggest challenges has been to create bindings that were conduits to the text, yet were appropriate to the author’s ideas. I’ve run the gamut of experimental bindings and have found myself (as I do now) with printed sheets to bind after new projects are begun. An edition is only controllable if you completely bind at least ten copies reasonably promptly, then concentrate on completing each binding stage with the remaining copies before moving on to the next step. That approach seems to make edition binding less onerous: a fact I’m finally learning.

 

For anyone who fantasizes about letterpress and the craft aspect of relief printing, you would be well advised to think carefully before investing in what has become an obsolete craft. Some art schools have letterpress equipment and a good university may offer courses and/or equipment as part of a bibliography program. Staining your fingers with ink and producing an image from letterforms is addictive but it requires serious commitment as well as good humour and patience – and, always, love of the craft rather than hope of financial return.

Though I would never call myself a particularly good printer or binder, it’s been fun finding interesting texts to print and, I hope, being a reasonably good steward to the author’s words. Very sadly, I think the Golden Age of Letterpress has gone. But the Book as an ideal of perfection remains, and I hope the physical book will continue to inspire, delight, offend, and enlighten us all for many decades to come.

 

If you are interested in any Aliquando Press books still on hand or want to chat, send an email to me at dovecotte[at]cogeco.ca.

 

 

It’s Canada Day so we’ll keep this short: some photos of the Jim Rimmer book in progress. That’s a sketch of what the binding will look like, quarter black cloth with printed paper over boards, the text set in Jim’s 60-pt Duensing Titling. 

 

Printing will be finished in the next couple of weeks, then binding, so copies out early fall as planned.

The book’s last page:

Next month another guest blog: The Aliquando Press’ Will Rueter. Stay cool.