I present you one of the most beautiful books ever made in my bindery, created in collaboration with Mia Heath (The Book Minder).
Reading the Hobbit
Before talking about how the The Hobbit was bound, I believe it’s important to share with you why this book is very important and deeply personal to me…
When I was 11 years old an uncle and aunt came to visit. Not knowing what to bring as a gift they had visited a bookshop and asked the bookseller to recommend something for a child of said age. “You know… I have just the thing, he’ll love it!” said he – and gave them the Hobbit. A lifetime later I still feel grateful to that person…
Upon reading the Hobbit something clicked in me. What was a vague fondness for a number of things began to acquire form, to move in a certain direction. It acted as a spark for my imagination and creativity. I honestly don’t know if I’d be the same person had I not read Tolkien’s books, or if I did so many years later. That’s how great an impact his work had on me.
Designing The Hobbit
I had been waiting for ages for someone to commission a very special leather binding of the Hobbit and Miss K. became that person. She intended it as a gift for her husband on whom, like me, Tolkien’s works have had a significant impact, but also for her newborn girl. She wanted “to provide him with something special to share between them”. Isn’t that a deeply sweet thought? Truly, I cannot think of a better reason behind a gift…
With that mind, and knowing how this book has shaped me, I wanted to go the extra mile and create something really special, in the hopes that it will become one of her daughter’s most cherished books and, perhaps, a defining one as well.
The binding was to revolve around 3 elements: the round door, the autumn colors and the leaves carried by the wind, which has become a recurring theme -not always with leaves- across some of my bindings.
A lot of it is also structured around vegetation, whether that is the leaves, or the edge coloring with its many shades of green, or the marbled papers in “thistle” pattern. Hobbits, as every decent and well-informed person knows, love things that grow. They are fond of gardening and enjoy long walks in the countryside and Bilbo Baggins, the story’s protagonist, is no exception. Nature however is not without its perilous side and Bilbo will find himself in dark spider-infested forests during his journey too.
Mia, who is also a big Tolkien fan, came up with the beautiful design based on the concepts described earlier, and patiently painted it, a process that involved many days of work from initial sketches to finished decoration.
Binding The Hobbit
Painting and Edge Coloring
Although the decoration could be painted directly on the leather it would eventually wear off through use and friction. I created a tool set with leaves and acorns in different sizes, even made a custom tool just for the dragon’s eye, and then tooled the entire design. This way even the smallest painted detail sits well protected in an impression below the binding’s surface.
The edge coloring proved to be quite a challenge, as it was a new skill for the both of us. We did a great many tests until we managed to get it right: I would prepare the edges by sanding them to a very smooth finish and then Mia would do the painting. For quite a while the results had a number of flaws, such as spots flaking off, colors not showing properly or pages stuck together. After dozens of tests on books I keep around for this purpose we were able to nail it. The result is an edge with patches in various shades of green that is looking at a forest canopy – the photos really don’t do it justice.
It couldn’t have been achieved without the help of Glenn Malkin who has made an excellent video illustrating this technique and also kindly answered some extra questions we had. Make sure to check his channel as he has some quite a few instructional videos I’m sure binders of any level will find interesting.
Tactility of the Binding
One of the things I try to take into consideration, when the project allows for it, is the tactility of a binding. Bindings are 3d objects we hold in our hands but often a lot of thought goes into how they look instead and not in how they “feel”.
This is a book that will be read and thus handled countless times, as opposed to a decorative piece that will be taken from it’s shelf/case 2-3 times in a lifetime, so I wanted it to feel special and have a tactile quality to it.
With that in mind I chose a leather with rather rough grain from Harmatan, even though they offer it in fine grain as well. Apart from beautiful to the touch it also underlines that this is a tale of old that speaks of wizards and dragons and magic rings. Another such element are the thick boards, smoothly rounded at the edges, which create the impressions of a hefty volume, as you’d expect from one that tells of such tales and is expected to be a heirloom piece, lasting many lifetimes. Last but not least, my overspending for weird papers has proven useful, as proven by the heavily textured paper used for the door that looks remarkably like wood, especially once colored and lacquered.
The Bag End’s Door
The door (painted by Olga Kotsirea) and is in many ways the centerpiece of the binding. Apart from being iconic, it represents Bilbo’s safe and cozy home, in stark contrast with all the unpleasantries he faces during his journey.
To enhance its display I created a recess on the front cover for the door to sit in, creating the illusion of depth. Another additional detail that hardcore fans might have already observed are the runes, inscribed by Gandalf: instead of the most commonly depicted single rune we chose to go for the ones seen in a drawing by Tolkien himself: B, D and R, which stand for Burglar, Danger and Reward (in the form of a diamond).
The Hobbit’s Maps
A lot of attention has gone into every little detail of this binding, and one such important detail is the maps. They were printed as the endpapers of the original edition I used for this binding which prohibited their re-use for various reasons and so I had to make new ones. I went in expecting it to be fairly simple to find ultra hi-resolution of Thror’s and Wilderland maps, especially given how easy it was when I was making the Silmarillion some years ago. Alas it was rather difficult and then had to spent a fair amount of time editing them, to make them clearer and sharper and for the colors to pop more, sometimes going over tiny letters one by one. For what’s more they are printed on an expensive cotton paper that can be found only in one place in Athens, which happens to be very far away from the bindery. But it was worth the trouble as I wanted the maps to feel as real as possible, to have texture and be exciting to look at.
The binding comes in a custom handmade slipcase that will keep it well protected. I really like how the exposed spine teases the viewer who is then offered a treat when pulling the binding and revealing the covers. As an additional touch, the slipcase’s spine features a snake-skin patterned leather in autumn red.
The lovely marbled papers used for the binding and the slipcase were custom made for this project by Papiers Prina. I wanted a paper that would resemble thick vegetation with copper/autumn accents to fit in with the rest of the binding, and Daniela was -once more- able to deliver!
Photos of the binding were taken by Maria Siorba, with whom I’ve happily collaborated on numerous occasions.
Bookbinding Tools used in binding The Hobbit
If you’re a bookbinder, novice or professional, you might be interested to know I’ve used my Stylus Set, Dot Set and Versatile Typeholder for the decoration of this binding, all of which you can acquire by sending me a message at koutsipetsidis@gmail.com or by visiting my Etsy shop. You can also see all of my available tools here.
Mighty Queen Nefertiti went to see the court sculptor for a new bust.
The sculptor Thutmosis was old and wise and the Queen found him examining a block of black basalt.
“Can you make me immortal?” asked she, to which the sculptor replied, “No, I cannot, my Queen, for only the Gods are immortal”.
“Can you make me perfect?” asked she, to which the sculptor replied, “No, I cannot, my Queen, for these hands belong to an imperfect man and thus cannot create perfection”.
“Of what use are you to me then?” wondered she, to which the sculptor replied, “I can give you beauty, my Queen, and that surpasses both immortality and perfection, for even immortals covet beauty and it defines perfection”.
Seeking Beauty
What is beauty? Defining its nature is one of the oldest and most persistently pursued endeavors of the human mind. We’ve yet to reach a conclusive definition and most likely never will, which is strange for something that governs our life in all its facets, one way or another.
I was commissioned to bind the memoirs of an aesthetic surgeon and in them he writes poignantly on the matter:
“ Countless mathematicians and philosophers attempt to quantitate true beauty and define perfect proportion. While they have succeeded to some degree, pointing to repetition of forms and ratios in the natural world as proof of their theories, there exists something unquantifiable about beauty. For me, it always comes back to the moment in the museum in Paris when I knew I stood before something beautiful. If beauty could be completely and entirely described, then an understanding of beauty would be something that anyone could obtain through study. We all know that’s not the case.”
What follows is a long journey into the creation of this binding and the worlds/thoughts of the surgeon and bookbinder behind it. If that, dear reader, sounds like something you’d enjoy carry on, and maybe pour a glass or two as we’ll be here for a while…
A Surgeon and a Bookbinder
We discussed a lot with Miss V., the person behind this project, and while I had a few ideas from the get go, which managed to find their ways into the finished bindings, they were mostly concepts without yet a solid canvas to bind them into a cohesive whole.
The commission involved two identical bindings and since one was intended as a gift to the very author of the book I decided to get to know him better. As I read his memoirs, I was surprised to find parallels between our professions, more than I’d expect, ranging from the superficial to the essential. This intrigued me: I felt I was looking at a strange mirror, seeing a distorted reflection of myself…
On a first level, the bookbinder and the surgeon use some similar tools (scalpel and various other cutting instruments) and work with the same basic material, leather, although obviously in different forms. Their work has to not only look good but function properly too: a stiff book joint that doesn’t open, or a stiff face, do not make for a happy client (although it may be argued the latter is more frustrating than the former). They both have to be very precise in their work, fusing over details less than half a mm in size, and must pay great attention to detail. Both fields require a balance between a skilled and steady hand and a good perception of aesthetics. The result is either lifeless or inspired but poorly made, if one of the two is lacking. The ideal surgeon and bookbinder are both an artisan and an artist.
On a deeper level, both seek to produce something beautiful. Some will probably argue that the most important pursuit of bookbinding is to protect and preserve the text, and they’d be 100% right, but I doubt it would have become such a vast and complex craft/art if it was only restrained to its technical purpose.
On this note, I couldn’t help but share this quote where the author draws an analogy between books and his field of work – although he probably didn’t expect it would apply to his memoirs one day: “ We are all drawn to beautiful book covers: there’s a part of us all that looks to cover art to tell us something about what is inside.”
What intrigued me the most though were the similarities between the author and me. Although there are parallels it’s also true that his profession, work and world in general, differ a great deal from mine. Yet there were certain parts which resonated deeply with me.
A good example is his words on perfectionism: “ But the great ones (surgeons) are awakened by challenge and driven by a chronic dissatisfaction with anything that could be better. ” I highly doubt I’ll ever be considered one of the great ones and I’m not implying that here – it is, after all, a title that’s always bestowed by others upon one’s person, as the author does here. That said, perfectionism has been an incredible driving force but also an occasional plague for me – I’ve talked about it and the effect it has had on me as an artisan in quite a few of my posts.
Here’s another one: “ Aesthetic surgery is the perfect place for me. There is an intersection of art, science, and medicine that can’t be found in any other field. ” Upon reading this I said to myself “Yes, exactly!”.
Bookbinding is an incredible amalgam of crafts and arts, unmatched (feel free to argue with me on this one) in the number and variety of craft fields it encompasses. No other craft comes close to it and it is this vastness and depth that I have fell in love with, as it makes every part of me come alive: it is about encasing the human intellect and psyche in a three-dimensional artifact and making sure it is functional, long lasting and beautiful. Sounds like something a wizard would say describing his art, doesn’t it…?
But the part which resonated with me the most was his recollections of Paris, and more specifically coming face to face with masterpieces of art:
“Paris was an incredible setting for expanding my horizons. I spent my time immersed in a culture that gave rise to some of the most beautiful art in the world and spent hours in the most celebrated museums. I was charged. Anyone who appreciates art knows the moment in a gallery or museum when perception of the sound of the floorboards or the knocking sound of your shoes on concrete gives way to the tidal wave of visual stimulation bestowed by a painting or sculpture. It shakes you. It isn’t just your eyes, but a feeling. You just know, with something beyond your eyes and brain, that what you are looking at is beautiful and meaningful and true. That feeling has the same force as the one that brings people to tears at symphonies and causes riots after Avant guard plays. As a young man in Paris, I experienced that over, and over, and over again. Standing feet away from perfect human forms released from marble,the abstract and yet completely controlled paintings of Seraut, and the luminous pastel forms of Degas, it clicked. The nebulous appreciation for art that had permeated my childhood coalesced and became a central part of who I am.”
The feeling he describes is something very familiar to me and I’ve had the pleasure to experience it in many cases. None of it however prepared me for my trip to Rome…
Rome was sublime. I never imagined such an immense scale of art and beauty -magnificent art that ranges from fragments of the ancient past to enormous masterpieces of the renaissance and beyond- could exist in one place in the world. It was simply too much to absorb and I’m still trying to process it.
Perhaps the most characteristic single instance was in Palazzo Massimo, which I highly recommend spending the time to explore.
Here I must note that I had the huge privilege to be almost entirely alone there during my visit, as it was during “off-season” (as much as it can be in Rome) and while the pandemic was still in almost full effect. This allowed me and my partner to have entire floors, sometimes entire museums, to ourselves, making the experience deeply personal. It was as if all of this art and beauty was created and collected there just for us…
Anyway, back to Palazzo Massimo. While it contains some extraordinary pieces of art, like the breathtaking sculpture of the Wrestler, it was something entirely different that stood out for me. At the 3rd floor of the museum are on display, excellently preserved, the interior walls and paintings of a Roman villa. Among them was a room portraying a garden. Viewing it in the serenity of absolute silence and solitude, I was moved. There was something in that artificial garden, it’s hard to put in words, as if this unknown painter was so in control of his skills, so confident and at the same time so humble and close to what he was depicting, making it seem completely effortless and full of life, as if he could do anything with his art. He could bring forth the mysteries of existence but instead created this garden, which felt in some ways more real than the real thing. I was almost in tears.
It also brought to mind what Picasso (supposedly) said after seeing the Altamira cave paintings “We’ve invented nothing”…
Capturing Beauty
It was this trip to Rome that gave me the inspiration I needed for the design, which is somewhat of an irony since I was asked by a couple of people if I believed it could find its way into my work and, having a hard time digesting the excess of excellence I came in touch with, I remember thinking to myself the unlikeliness of such a possibility.
In his memoirs the author writes: “ Standing feet away from perfect human forms released from marble […]” and “In many ways I consider myself a sculptor, and my medium human cartilage, bone, and tissue.”
I knew there was something I could -no, not could, should!- work with there. But I couldn’t come up with something. After returning from Rome, and while I was trying to convince my ideas to work in unison, I kept thinking about the trip. I remembered my visit to the Vatican museums. The first stop was their great collection of Egyptian antiquities, among which were artifacts and statues made of black basalt. Suddenly, something clicked. A concept began to emerge, my up-until-now random ideas gravitating towards it.
An important part of the design I came up with was to surface-gilt the back cover with a foil that would make it look like dark granite or basalt. This was a technique I was familiar with and I also did various tests, which looked great in person. However, when I went on to apply it on the bindings themselves disaster struck: for some reason beyond the result was “clotted” and didn’t look at all like the test boards, although the materials and the process was exactly the same.
Hmm, this felt familiar… Fortunately, I am not the binder I was 10 years ago. This disaster forced me to rethink the design and the final piece of the puzzle was revealed: I decided to use a material I bought a while back and had been itching to use, a paper with a stone texture. Why didn’t you think of it in the first place, I hear you ask? I’ve no idea, tunnel vision I guess. The point is abandoning the surface-gilding technique and introducing this paper freed me and eventually led to a much more nuanced design.
One of the reasons I immensely enjoyed working on this project was how well it lended itself to my beloved play on symbolism. As you might have seen in my South Sea Scheme or Hamlet binding, I like to create layers of meaning, some of which point inwards and some outwards, by playing with the three elements interacting with each other: the book’s content, the thoughts it creates and lastly the binding, the physical object, itself.
However in this case the concept of layers took on a much more literal meaning as well, a nod to the topic at hand. Books have layers, just like human bodies. And just as is the case with people those layers take on a metaphorical sense as you peel deeper: Books and People are more than the sum of their parts.
I tried to incorporate the aspect of layers in different ways. First by actually taking off a piece of leather/skin from the face on the front cover, “unveiling” that way what lies beneath. The cover itself is a layer and when you open it you are once more left facing the tissue underneath, but bigger/closer now. The endpapers are followed by a section of two papers that differ in hue and texture, to add tactility but mostly to simulate a transition from one layer to another into the human body. And finally, we reach a paper in the color and texture of bone upon which the thoughts of the author are laid.
The layer concept, as described above, also doubles as a play to the authors quote on being a sculptor with human cartilage, bone, and tissue being his medium.
The cases could be considered as adding a final extra layer over the bindings.
Moving on to the covers themselves, which I named Pre-operation side and Goddess side respectively in my mind.
The Pre-op side features, with some artistic license, surgical markings inspired by Langer lines, which normally depict skin tension.
The detail that stands out the most on this side, in fact one of the core elements of the design in general, is the incredible marbled paper that Daniela from Papiers Prina managed to create, custom made for this project, which was also used for the endpapers. I had the idea of such a paper in my mind long before the design began taking shape and so a lot of it was created around this paper. I needed something that would bring the image of human muscle, tissue and blood veins in mind, while being artistic and interesting to look at – beautiful but also slightly disturbing. It was, as requests go, very specific and at the same time quite vague.
Daniela’s paper surpassed my wildest expectations. It was extremely difficult to make, as it was triple-marbled and required a great amount of experimentation and precision to achieve the intended result and have all the layers show through each other in the right way. In the end though her skills, meticulousness and artistic perception allowed her, through the strange mix of chaos and order that is marbling, to create the most unique marbled paper I’ve ever owned and used.
I wanted the Goddess side to have a transcending quality to it. To be a beautiful face but also one that isn’t exactly real. Gone are the anatomical lines and the jawline indicating a face contour, the skin and tissue underneath: a black stone with intense texture, abstract lines and gold accents has taken their place. Its shape, the shape of the face now, is not anymore bound by the restraints of human anatomy. The straight colorless hair has turned to golden ornaments. A vibrant electric blue emanates from the eye, capturing the light in every move of the cover.
This is the desired image of ourselves, beauty itself. The disparity between the two faces is huge, yet they exist on opposing sides of the same book and if one would flip the covers open in a 180 degree angle (ideally don’t though!) they could gaze onto each other…
The eye, lips and nose of the Goddess side were traced over an astonishing face, that of Queen Nefertiti, as seen through the famous bust.
The title, running down on the bindings spine between the two covers, underlines how the surgeon is the intermediator between us and our desired image of ourselves. The letters of the title are each tooled in two colors: gold and a silvery black, inspired by the gold-black stripes on King Tut’s sarcophagus.
For the headbands I went with a red leather core held in place by golden silk threads, the idea being to resemble exposed veins.
It’s a happy coincidence that this is the first binding I’ve put some sort of personal insignia on – something that’s been long overdue. The symbol you see represents a monogram of K and D, my initials.
The story of Nefertiti and Thutmosis (“calligraphy” on papyrus by Marianna Koutsipetsidis) originally came to me as a nice extra touch. However, in the end it became what really brought everything together: the idea behind the design, the source of its inspiration, the style of the bookcase, the book’s content and my thoughts during the whole binding process.
I’m a storyteller at heart and, to me at least, this short story is the most important part of this project and why it’s possibly my most “artistic” work yet. Binding the book and making a case for it, no matter how special, is simply a transformation process through my skills, it’s still taking X and using it to make Y. The short story represents the transition from transformation to emergence, creating something entirely new, that also grants meaning to my design. It’s the core, the life-giving heart of it all.
I always considered myself a craftsman and not really an artist when it comes to bookbinding – the artistic side of me usually being just a sprinkle on the cake. That’s why this project, for the reason mentioned above, felt like a birth of sorts, as if entering a new realm where strange and exciting things happen.
Who knows, if I manage to stay here long enough I might even find Thutmosis somewhere, patiently revealing a face hidden in stone…
Epilogue
Before signing off I’d like to express my gratitude for G.V., the person who commissioned this project. By giving me freedom, patience, helpful pointers, trust and last but not least a decent budget, she made it stress-free and allowed me to immerse myself in it, to explore, experiment and finally produce something that speaks of the creative in me as much as, I believe, speaks of the book’s content.
Greetings everyone, hope you managed to enjoy the holidays and brace for whatever 2021 has in store for us! Without further ado lets… dive in this special project.
Mister C. owns an admirable collection of marbled papers from around the world. Word on the bookbinding street is that he keeps them in a secret room in his study, revealed only if you press 43 books -out of 6000- in a specific order, while others claim the way to reveal the entrance is to loudly name the 3 greatest economists in reverse speech while standing on one foot. In any case, Mister C. often initiates a project by choosing a marbled paper for a book, either on his own or consulting with the bookbinder, and building the overall design from there.
Such was the case with a pamphlet on the South Sea Bubble, a famous financial scheme that involved slave trading. More specifically the pamphlet is focused on the absurd case the defendants made in court, since the scheme resulted in a financial disaster on a national level. Coincidentally 2021 marks 300 years from the South Sea Bubble, as the fraud was revealed in 1721.
Mister C. had a few requests when it came to the design. I was to use one of the marvelous marbled papers made by Antonio Velez Celemin, which had swirls that would resemble a turbulent sea. I tried my best to capture the beauty of this paper on camera but one really has to see it in person to appreciate its extremely fine details, such as the numerous hair-thin gold lines that populate it and add to its splendor. The design was to also include a ship, chains, the pound sign and the words “human rights” among its elements. The overall layout and the way all these would be incorporated was left to my crafting judgement though. The intention was to create a binding that would narrate the story of the South Sea Bubble in a symbolic way, while at the same touching upon its repercussions and ethical questions it raises.
The first thing I did was trying to find out which part of the marbled papers to cut and how. I had to decide which areas best suited the design, take into account the paper grain and the exact outline of the cut. As the entire design would be based on the resulting pieces and I only had one sheet it took me 3 hours to complete this process.
I felt like a lapidarist, who has to study a rough diamond and come up with the ideal final shape, in order to remove the impurities but also preserve as much of the precious material as possible, thus revealing its hidden beauty and ensuring the resulting gem will have be of the highest value.
Once the pieces of paper were cut I knew the space I had available and its exact geometry, allowing me to create the rest of the design in detail.
The ship sailing on the turbulent sea under a storm and its wreck sinking to the bottom to meet the remnants of other ships were made using small pieces of leather pared down to a 0.3mm thickness, called onlays.
The chain on the front cover carries a double meaning: representing the shackles of the people that suffered under the slave trade conducted by the South Sea Company as well as the cuffs that were put on many of the ones responsible for the scheme, falling upon the ship and their business in the shape of a lighting – hinting at allegorical interpretations of “divine punishment”.
This design was also an excellent chance to utilize my (copyright pending!) Round Circle Title form, which I haven’t used for a very long time. (Here’s two examples: A and B)
Ι blended “human rights” with the title and tooled it in a blood-red foil to add even more symbolic notes to the overall theme and make a stark contrast with the dark leather and gold title. Fun fact: I haven’t been able to find this foil locally and so I’ve been religiously keeping/saving a small scrap for nearly a decade. It paid off, as I think it adds a great touch and becomes in some ways the central focus of the design. Take that Marie Kondo!
The pamphlet itself sits comfortably within a recess on the velvet and marbled-paper covered interior. When removed it reveals what is in many cases the cause of human suffering: money. As with the paper on the covers I tried to use a piece that would make the most of the marbled paper chaotic and fine details.
The pamphlet was a binding at some point in the past, though the only remnants from that state were a damaged endband sliver and some dried up goo along the spine. I decided to intervene as little as possible and simply guarded the folios with Japanese tissue, later binding them on a strip of thick paper using the longstitch method. This way there was almost zero harm to the pamphlet, as most of the holes used for the longstitch were already present and the strips of Japanese paper can easily be removed if necessary, while at the same time remaining readable.
Welcome to another Techniton Politeia interview! This time we get to talk with Robert Wu about his Reliure d’Art, marbled papers and miniature bindings. Wu is a Taiwanese-Canadian bookbinder and paper marbler located in Toronto. He makes one-off or small editions of books, presentation boxes, leather fine art bindings or jewellery boxes and decorative papers for individual collectors, libraries or institutions.
He holds a Masters degree in Architecture and also a Bachelor degree in Architectural science. He has also studied classical painting techniques for 3 years at Toronto Academy of Realist Art.
Wu Started bookbinding in 1990s through CBBAG in Toronto with Don Taylor, Betsy Palmer Elderidge and furthered his training in bookbinding with Masterbinder Monique Lallier & Don Etherington at AAB (American Academy of Bookbinding) in Colorado USA, where he was awarded the “Tini Miura Scholarship”, selected by the masterbinder herself. Later on he received full-time intensive private training in French reliure d’art technique with Tini for more than a month. He also attended a workshop at the Center for the Bookarts in NYC with Masterbinder Luigi Castiglioni of Italy.
He has taught several workshops at CBBAG and participated in Designer Bookbinders International Competitions UK twice, with his submitted bindings chosen for the touring exhibitions. In 2012, he had the honour of being invited to participate in Album Amicorum – an International marbling exhibition in Turkey, USA and Europe. Collections of Wu’s marbling art and bindings can be found worldwide in private collections or libraries.
Last but not least in his own words: “Besides bookbinding and marbling, I also occasionally do letterpress printing with a floor model antique Gordon treadle press and an antique Sigwalt tabletop press for printing stationery, invitations or business cards. In my spare time, I enjoy playing the piano and the cello with a local orchestra. Phew! Where do I find the time to do all these!“
We live in an age in which speed and efficiency matter a lot, often in expense of quality. Almost anything can be instantly found and bought from a shelf, be it a garment, a furniture or appliance, a car. Custom handmade objects on the other hand take a lot of time to be made. Bookbinding is definitely a good example of this; a book may take weeks, months and some times years to be finished. Can you explain to us why a binding may take so long to be completed? Which was the longest time you had to work on a binding? What are the requirements of such lengthy commissions and what are the problems a binder could encounter?
It’s true a lot of things are made to be disposable nowadays. I prefer the care and quality of things made in the past, where they were made to last. I made a clear decision at the beginning of my career to focus on the French design art bookbinding technique. So I went to study at AAB (American Acadmey of Bookbinding) in USA to further my training in the French technique with masters who studied in Paris.
A full fledged French art binding has about 100 steps to complete and design takes time to nurture. I would work on a bunch of books at the same time up to the same stage. But when it comes time to do finishing/design, I prefer to focus on just one binding at a time. I usually give my clients about 1 to 2 years of waiting time to complete a commission.
Bindings can be works of art. However, unlike most art objects which will sit safely on display high on a wall or behind a piece of glass, bindings have moving parts, must function properly and must endure the wear and tear of handling for a long time. That’s quite a lot to ask from an artisan and people tend to forget about these aspects of bookbinding. I believe one reason is because most don’t often -if ever- get the chance to handle a fine binding. We’re used in seeing still-pictures of them and therefor lack the sense of their “materialness”. You often accompany your bindings’ photos with videos where you take them out of their protective cases, display them from various angles, open and page through them. I’ve seen this done by a few other binders as well. I believe such videos are important because they highlight the material nature of a binding, its volume and tangibility. Please share a few thoughts on this aspect of our craft; the demand to produce a sound and long lasting and yet pleasing, both to they eye and touch, object. How can a binder balance between functionality and aesthetics? How does this dual task affect you personally as an artisan?
Art bookbinding is considered as a fine craft rather than fine art because it is essentially a book that needs to be read in the end. Unfortunately we couldn’t compare our work to fine paintings or charge our work accordingly even though a design binding might take just as long to complete as a fine painting! But I still think book-art is more interesting and rewarding than a painting or sculpture as you can touch, feel and smell a binding and enjoy reading the text and images. A book engages all senses and it tells you a story in many ways!
I also think that music is an important aspect of my work. So whenever I create or design a binding, I want the viewer to experience that aspect when they handle my bindings. Videos are a good way to include that and show all details of a binding that you couldn’t see in pictures. And off course, handling a fine binding in person is a totally different experience! I became hooked on fine binding after I first held my teacher Tini Miura’s binding in my hand. It was a magical experience. A binding like that has soul.
Your work is often characterized by sumptuous covers and it is evident that you don’t shy away from combining various decorative techniques on a single binding. If you could only pick one what would you say is the most important element of a design (any design) – the defining characteristic? Something which always plays a key role during the initial stages of planning and comes to bind -pun intended- everything together afterwards.
Furthermore, once you’ve settled on an idea about the design how do you choose which decorative techniques to use? Can you give a few advices on how to make different elements and techniques come together for a design without it looking “noisy” or “overdone”?
Good question! Personality wise, I am a hopeless romantic. To me, LESS IS LESS and it’s BORING. I love a complex design. At the same time a complex design doesn’t have to look busy. It’s a fine balance. I admire the designs of Frank Lloyd Wright, Carlo Scarpa, George Barbier, FL Schmied, the music of Chopin. They are all masters of composition and details. God is in the details. I want my designs to look spontanious and dynamic. Since I am trained as a designer (architecture), I can usually work out my designs or ideas down on paper very fast, within the hour, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I would refine and change minor things but I believe in the importance of trusting your vision or intuition or inspiration – whatever you call it!
Let’s focus on a particular piece from your work. I was absolutely enamored with your binding of “A Voyage towards the North Pole”, I couldn’t find something I don’t like about it, even if I tried. More specifically, although the “Faux Ammolite” emulating the northern lights is particularly impressive, the eggshell panel for the ice-covered mountains stole the show for me – so fitting!
Please share with us some behind-the-scenes stories about its making; why did the pages require such an extensive treatment and what did it include? How did you come up with its design? What was the most difficult part of making the decoration? Can you tell a few things about your “Faux Ammolite”?
The Arctic binding was a commission from a library. I was given the task to create a design binding on a 17th century book. First, it was a very moldy and dirty book. I advised the client that I had to wash the book before I could make an expensive design binding. It was a neccesity.
The design was inpired by the beautiful etching images in the book. I wanted to capture the grandeur of the North pole and came up with a new idea of creating my “Faux Ammolite” panels to represent the mysterious northern lights! I was very happy with the effect and overall design of this binding with eggshell panels. I love Art Deco. So I enjoy incorporating materials like my creations of “Faux Ivoire” or “Faux Ammolite”. It’s necessary to push the boundaries, to get out of the comfort zone and try out something new! It’s rewarding.
One of the things that stands out amongst your work is miniature bindings. You’ve made quite a few of them and they boast a dazzling variety. Some are slightly larger than a big coin, yet they have almost all of the characteristics that can be found on a normal-sized binding. Why miniature bindings, what makes them so fascinating to you? Can you explain to the readers the intricacies and difficulties of making such a small, often tiny, binding?
I started getting interested in bookbinding via origami. I was folding little origami books out of one sheet of paper. But I couldn’t really write much in it so I came across a little bookbinding manual in a bookstore to see if I could make my own journals. At the beginning it looked so difficult with all the tools one would need to make a properly bound book. So I started making a tiny properly bound blank book by following the instructions in the manual and used whatever simple craft tools I had. After that, I was hooked on bookbinding and wanted to learn more so I started taking workshops with CBBAG.
So just like anything in life, one starts small and your interest grows, and you start to have bigger ambitions. It’s just a natural process. Miniature bindings are a great way to learn all aspects of bookbinding in a smaller scale so it’s more managable for beginners. But a masterpiece in miniature requires the reverse process and it’s definitely more difficult to do than its large counterparts.
On to another topic; it is obvious that marbling holds an important place when it comes to your creative identity. Your marbled papers have a distinct character and almost all of your bindings feature them. How were you initially drawn to marbling and what kept you to it? How did you go about learning it? And finally how has such an asset -being able to make your own marbled papers that is- affected your creative approach when it comes to binding books?
I am mostly self-taught in marbling. I did take a beginner course in marbling with CBBAG. But it was very basic. I started to marble because I could use my own marbled paper for my own bindings. Like anything, the more you do, the better you get. I experimented for a long time and it eventually evolved into marbling art which I call “Marbled Graphics”™. I love compositions, regular marbled papers don’t satifsy me, so I started creating marbling art with my own compositions. The general public appreciate my marbling as art but most people are not that creative so they don’t know what to do with regular full patterned marbled paper for bookbinding or craft. They think they are just fancy wrapping papers, lol!
Many of your marbled papers -especially those used as endpapers in your bindings- seem to be inspired by classic western marbling, yet they veer off in a very different, very personal, direction. They are often abstract, sometimes almost free of pattern, but instead of looking like “mistakes” or failed patterns they have an air of confidence. As if having crossed some boundary and being bold but at the same time relaxed about it. Does this come naturally to you when marbling or is it a result of meticulous care? Can you define the elements that contribute to the uniqueness of your marbled papers?
I love details and compositions. My marbled paper or marbling art also reflect that. I like finess in everything I do. Doing regular marbled paper for store orders is very difficult because if I make a mistake or get an air bubble in my paper, I can’t sell them to the store. Doing edition marbling for store orders is a challenge because consistency is hard to achieve and when you have to do a couple of hundreds of sheets at a time for a couple of months, it takes the fun out of marbling. Being meticulous is a must for doing professional marbling or fine binding and it’s not easy!
No matter how talented a binder is, or any artisan, he/she can only learn and become adept in certain aspects of a craft. Our time is limited and, since our skill-tree translates itself into the identity of our creations, we must choose wisely which skills to learn and improve along the way. Many, I’d even dare to say most – given the immensity of our craft, will be left out or acquired at a very basic level. Is there some particular skill or technique/s, within the vast horizon of bookbinding, that you’d like to try your hand at or feel you haven’t explored as much as you’d like?
I guess I am lucky to have discovered the art of French Design Art bindings at the very beginning. I was pretty focused to seek out training in the French techniques after I had read my alma mater, Tini Miura’s book “My World of Bibliophile Binding”, where she talked about the French technique being the most perfect and sublime. Finesse is everything in reliure d’art. I share that sentiment. We were lucky to have Tini in USA and teaching at AAB because one gets to learn the best technique from one person without having to travel to many different places and study with many different masters in Europe. Tini told me that when she was stuyding in Paris in the 60’s, the best master binders worked behind closed doors. But being a female, she was not deemed as a competitor to them so she was never refused or denied lessons. Her male counterparts were not so lucky.
I believe that if you possess good techniques, perfected through centuries and passed down from masters, you really don’t need gimmicks to stand out. I try to focus on good designs and develop my own style and still keep an open mind to new techniques to compliment my work.
You can see more of Wu’s work at Studio Robert Wu. If you enjoyed this interview there are more you can read at my blog sectionTechniton Politeia. Till next time!
Dimitri's Bookbinding corner 