Category Archives: technology

Hurricane Sandy, Reading, Money

Last week, after hurricane Sandy, I had no power, heat, lights, internet, hot water, cell service or client meetings.  Life and work were on hold. The temperature in my studio was a crisp 53 degrees, which was not conducive to working, so I spent most of the days walking around Manhattan. One thing I noticed was that while paper and screens were used for communication, paper emerged as a necessity for commerce.

Myself, and most residents living in lower Manhattan needed to walk to 27th St., where power and cell service began. The grocery stores that remained open in lower Manhattan had plenty of food and water: what people needed was juice for their phones and cash. Mass charging on daisy chained power strips took place in coffee houses, outside of stores, at portable generators in parks, and even at pedal powered dynamos on Avenue C. This atmosphere of cooperation extended into the street where cars—without traffic lights—negotiated the intersections without incident in my observation.

But paper still had its place. At Fishs Eddy, many wrote cheeky post it notes to Sandy, a kind of postmodern post card. Also, paper money was once again a necessity. Credit cards were useless without electricity or cell service.  But Banks and ATM’s were closed. Do many Manhattan residents stash cash under the mattress? Merchants tallied bills with a pencil and paper or visual inspection. Tax was largely ignored, possibly rationalized because there were no services, or likely too difficult to record.

Could this be a glimpse at a potential post-apoclyptic culture?  What if all cell phone service had disappeared? How many of us still have battery powered radios? Among other things, Sandy highlights the overlapping and non-linear nature of technological change as well as the durability of paper, a technology which is at least 2,000 years old.

I didn’t see anyone using books, though….

*****

Contact me or the AIC-CERT disaster response team, or The New York Alliance for Response if you have wet or water damaged books.

*****

Things are back to normal for me, but there are still ongoing needs for others. Many, especially in New Jersey, are still without power, heat, and need gas, food, etc. Donate to your favorite charities if possible, or these local ones.

*****

David Nye has a great and very readable social history of blackouts titled “When the Lights Went Out”. There is a section on the 2003 east coast blackouts.

Tools, Technique and Teachers

Can technique be embodied in a tool? Does the universal nature of hand tools enable a reasonably skilled practitioner to pick up and use an unfamiliar tool?  Is experience with tool use, or common sense, enough?  Or is it necessary to have external guide: a teacher, book or video?  How does the use of obsolete tools become rediscovered, like stone axes?  Can they ever be understood and used ‘correctly’ or in a historically accurate manner?

I investigate questions such as these in my research of 18th century French bookbinding, in part by making and using reproduction tools as pictured in Diderot’s Encyclopedié and Dudin’s L’Art du Relieur-doreur de Livres.  Since I am familiar with bookbinding tools, it is a matter of subtleties — very important subtleties! — but not massive unknowns.

I had a chance to think about these questions a bit more broadly when I purchased the tool pictured below at a flea market.

At the time I didn’t know what it was for, but it was cheap and appealingly well made.

At first I thought it might be a tool for cutting a groove in leather. The curved tine on the top is sharp (or should be) on both ends and is slightly adjustable in height.  This tool is strongly constructed; observe the thick bolster and tapered forged tang. Small details like the wedge shaped, chamfered scales make it comfortable to hold and indicate it was meant to be operated by a pulling motion. The length of the handle is about three inches, or nine centimeters, and I’m slightly embarrassed to use such a cliche, but it really does fit my hand perfectly. It is heavily used but completely functional — often the sign of a quality tool used by a professional.  Tools for the amateur market are more likely to be damaged by inexperienced users and poor quality construction.

Later, a bit of looking through Salaman’s Dictionary of Woodworking Tools revealed that this is timber scribe or log race, made to carve letters and numbers onto stakes, crates, barrels or other wooden objects. Surveyors used to use it to mark bearing trees.

After learning the name of this tool, and by extension its intended use, how to use it seemed obvious.  It can be used to carve straight lines just by using the cutting edge, and make curved ones by jabbing the point into the wood.   I had no real knowledge of this specific tool and hadn’t seen one being used. Is this a part of what a tool is — an object that contains information about its use?

There are nagging questions and doubts that the technique informed from the tool is not as elegant or efficient as possible. Tool use is only a part of the skill sets necessary for a craft. Maybe we do need teachers to demonstrate — or confirm our efforts — that we are using a tool the ‘right’ way. Craft skills are traditionally transmitted by close contact with skilled users, which seems to be one reason for the popularity of short term workshops, even though aspects of this contact can be captured in writing or video.

And as the tearout in the image below illustrates, we all need to be occasionally reminded  to sharpen our tools.

Finally, why the irresistible impulse to carve initials into wood?  Old school tagging?

Here are images of a timber scribe in use.

Espresso Drippings

Jeff Altepeter, Bookbinding Instructor at North Benett Street School, gave me a copy of John J. Pledgers’ “Bookbinding and its Auxiliary Branches” which was printed on demand by the Espresso Book Machine.  For expensive, hard to find books, the Espresso is great for people like me who basically want the textual information, and have difficulty concentrating while screen reading.

The Espresso bills the books it makes as a “Library Quality” binding.  I’m not quite sure what this means, or even if this is a good thing, but the book  is similar in quality to a mass produced paperback, with slightly better quality paper.  The cover is lined up and it is well trimmed, but there is a suspiciously dark colored glue on the spine. If the grain of the paper ran head to tail, it might even open fairly well.  For $8, however, it is cheaper and easier to read than a photocopy, though the images are a bit worse in quality.  In many ways, the Espresso is getting close to the ultimate goal of  bookbinding machinery inventors– to print and bind a book without human intervention, relatively inexpensively and reasonably durably.

Below is the same image from three versions of this book for comparison.

Fig. 1. Screen shot from Google Books.

——-

Fig. 2. Image from the Espresso Book Machine Printing, using the Google Scan.

—–

Fig. 3.  From a photocopy I made in the 1990’s, from the Revised edition of 1924.

—–

A Sordid Tale Involving a Book Conservator and an ebook Reader

“The ebook reader is devil spawn, the product of an unholy union between book and machine.”

Jeff Peachey–July, 2009

Last week, in a stark reversal of previously held convictions, I purchased a kindle 2 ebook reader.

Initially inspired by a number of upcoming talks I will be giving concerning the future of books and conservation, I have been reading and thinking about ebook readers for a while, especially in terms of how they might augment, change or supplant paper books.  This machine is emblematic of the societal changes regarding the distribution, consumption and value of books.  It can also evoke ire in those who are firmly enamored with paper books.

So I am slightly ashamed, after wrestling with the dilemma to purchase one or not for a few months, that  I realized, with an intensity almost religious in its conviction, that I wanted one– immediately.  Purely in the interests of research, I told myself.  Last Monday, at 9:17 am I logged on to Amazon and purchased one.  I’m even more embarrassed to admit I succumbed to the same day delivery option for Manhattan.  Who in their right mind would wait 5-9 days for free delivery, I reasoned.  I wanted this machine now.  During the day, I was embarrassed yet again, by how excited and eager I was to get my kindle. At 2:26 that afternoon the machine arrived.

After charging the battery, my first thought was to make some sort of case to  hide protect it.  This proved more challenging than initially envisioned.  A number of designers and computer case makers have fabricated various holders, hinged book-like portfolios and envelopes, but none of these seemed satisfactory, since I found the machine very comfortable when held naked.  I ended up making a slipcase  lined with Volara, which works for now.

The next step was to inform some of my friends and colleagues that I had bought this reading machine.   Not surprisingly, I received a variety of responses, ranging from “WHAT!”  to “WHAT THE…!” to “ARE YOU CRAZY?!!” to “OH_MY_GOD!”  After downloading a number of free books, I settled on my first purchase; “Erewhon”, by Samuel Butler.  It is a novel describing  a future civilization that only has knowledge of machines through reading about them in books.

I must confess that I like the kindle, but have only used it for a week.

THE BAD

*It is another expensive portable electronic device that I have to remember to recharge.

*I keep wanting to scroll, but the machine can only turn pages.

*The page turns are much faster than earlier versions, but still pretty slow, and still accompanied by a split second seizure inducing reversal of text and background.

*ebooks themselves seem overpriced to me- around $10. Since there is no production, distribution and minimal storage costs, $5-$7 would seem more in line with the profit margin on paper books.

*There is no secondary marketplace for ebooks.

*Rapidly “flipping” through to find specific pages is difficult.

*It is strange to read everything in the same font- Caelicia.

*It is strange to read everything on the same “page”.

*The formatting and kerning are quite variable and often very bad.

*The footnotes on the books I have are not in hypertext, so it is awkward to first go back to the table of contents, then to the notes, then page through each to find it.

*The 6 inch screen seems small in relation to the size of the machine. Not that many words-per-page even with a small font size.

*I still find the machine itself a little distracting to the reading process.  Maybe it is just a matter of me getting used to it. It invites me to fiddle with buttons and check the web.

*Occasionally the screen glares in a strong light source.

*The “text to speech” voice is annoying and virtually unlistenable.

*I wish the background of the screen were a little whiter.

*Many books and  journals are not available.

*I don’t like the idea of an ebook readers.

THE GOOD

*It seems well made, the buttons have a nice inward click.  Easy to hold with one or two hands.  Good ergonomics.

*Lighter than an average book of the same size. And obviously, much lighter than 1,500 books.

*Purchased books are backed up by Amazon, and can be shared on other formats, like the iphone or computer.  Even bookmarks and notes are shared.

*It is very convenient not have to think about what book to take when I go out.

*The choice of five font sizes is invaluable for the over 40 crowd.

*It is fantastic to use while eating, lying flat, taking up half the table space of a paper book.

*The eink is clear and easy to look at for long periods of time. Better “print” quality than many common mass market paperbacks.

*There are thousands of free, public domain books available.

*It it a wonderful size for reading in the car or on the subway.  It is very easy to turn the pages on a packed train while standing.

*The battery life is great. I’ve used it constantly for a week, and haven’t turned it off, only recharging it once.

*The free 3G web browser works reasonably well for mobile optimized websites.

*It will help clear up scarce bookshelf space.

*An average book downloads in less than a minute.

*I imagine it will be perfect when traveling- no worries about running out of books, and a lot less weight.

I will avoid the already somewhat tiresome “is the kindle better than a book” debate for now, at least until I’ve had a couple of months to use it.  Suffice to say, there are many issues.  But the ebook reader itself may already be heading towards obsolescence.   A couple of ebook blogers are nervous that the tablet computer, which Apple will possibly introduce later this week, may replace their traditional ebook reader, and are growing anxious and defensive about it. Technology races onward.


A Few Random Thoughts on 19th Century Books and Machines

Starting in the mid 20th century, many book conservators and proto-conservators rallied around the now common premise that it is the material make-up and structure of books, and not just the surface decoration that needs to be studied and conserved.  So it seems somewhat ironic that most of the recent research/ interest in 19th century cloth case bindings focuses on– you guessed it– surface decoration and famous designers.

For those who think the structure of 19th century cloth case structures are all the same, I urge you to look again. They document the most radical change in book structure during the past 12 centuries.  They dramatically evolve to become the ideal structure for fabrication by machinery.  In fact, the machinery itself is of interest, beginning almost contemporaneously with the Luddite Rebellion of 1811-12.  Interpreting how the machines evolved, were used, were maintained and affected labor is virtually unresearched.  I fear many of these machines gone- sold for scrap.  Similarly, a friend of mine recalled seeing mountains of smashed linotype machines left for trash in the 1970’s along the West Side Highway in NYC.

The structure of cloth cased books, and boarded books, preceded mechanization and was originally done by hand.  Around 1820, the only machine used in cloth binding was a rolling machine to replace hand beaters, but by the 1880’s about the only operation done by hand was the final casing in. I almost always find it interesting to look at machines, speculating about how they functioned and appreciating their aesthetics.

In some respects, the Espresso Book Machine could be considered the quintessence of bookbinding machines. It can print, bind, cover and trim a “library quality paperback” in about 4 minutes, with humans only needed to clear the occasional paper jam in the high speed printer.

Now we just need a reading machine to replace the outdated human interface….

Short Pencils

This pencil box, filled with well worn pencils, strikes me as extremely poignant.  Someone treasured, or at least saved these used up pencils and eventually they were resold to in a junk shop.  It is increasingly rare to even see well worn objects– things just break or get discarded because they are obsolete or out of fashion.  No one today (except Jim Croft!) would ever consider using a pencil that is so short, awkwardly grasping it at the end of two fingers and a thumb, then slowly writing.  I imagine when the ferrule prevented the pencils from entering any further into the pencil sharpener, someone removed it and tried to sharpen them from the other end.  Using the ferrule to make the double ended pencil seems an absurd amount of work for very little benefit.  But since many of the pencils appear not to have been used after being sharpened, were these made as an exercise to pass the time? Could the person who made this not be able to afford a new pencil, or just being creative?  Even the pencil box, well constructed with finger joints and a sliding lid, is a rarity these days.  The remains of these pencils are possibly more interesting than the words or numbers that they once wrote– pointing to the value and importance of tools.

***

For those old enough remember card catalogs and the little pencils (aka. golf pencils) scattered around them, this informative documentary explores where they come from, how they were made and how they were used.  Documentaries like this one give us a fascinating glimpse into how earlier cultures lived, worked,  and constructed the objects of daily life.

***

The new Zebra mechanical pencils, available from Staples and Amazon, costing 39 cents each are close to ideal. They are light, cheap and cleverly designed. The lead that comes with the pencil is fairly poor quality, but is easily replaced. Pressing the eraser advances the lead. But  their best feature is their perfect overall length– most pencils are too long, at least for my hand, and have been that way for the past 100 years or more.


Paper, Paper, Paper

Before Jacques Derrida died, he used to teach a yearly seminar for grad students at New York University, which I managed to sit in on in the late 90’s.  It was completely over my head, but it was an intellectual roller-coaster that I will never forget.  I could barely remember where I lived after listening to him for a while.  One of his later books, Paper Machine, deals largely with paper and  books.

Included in the book is an interview, where he was asked to what extent paper functions as multimedia, and how paper has influenced his work.  Derrida responds:

Seeing all these questions emerging on paper, I have the impression (the impression!–what a word, already) that I have never had any other subject:  basically paper, paper , paper.  It could be demonstrated, with supporting documentation and quotations, “on paper”: I have always written, and even spoken, on paper: on the subject of paper, an actual paper, and with paper in mind.  Support, subject, surface, mark, trace, written mark, inscription, fold–these were also themes that gripped me by a tenacious certainty, which goes back forever but has been more and more justified and confirmed, that the history of this “thing,” this thing that can be felt, seen and touched, and thus contingent, paper, will have been a brief one.  Paper is evidently the limited “subject ” of a domain circumscribed in the time and space of a hegemony that marks out a period in the history of a technology and in the history of humanity. (p. 41)

Although he wrote this in 2001, it is remarkable how prescient he was, given the recent revolution in ebook readers: the Sony reader, the Kindle and the Nook.

Derrida, Jacques. Paper Machine. Trans. Rachel Bowlby. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005.

American Book Bindery Building, Part 2

industrial conveying

I posted some photos I took of the exterior of the American Book Bindery Building a while ago. When looking through some of the trade catalogues I’ve collected over the years, I was pleased to find this image from the Lamson Company, which specialized in Industrial Conveying. The catalog is not dated, but looks like it is from the 1920’s. The text states the signatures are moving from the folding machine to the gluing benches without first being sewn, which presumably is a mistake.  Now there is a little information about what the bindery looked like on the inside.

Coincidences like these make the world seem a much smaller place.

.

The Joiner and Cabinet Maker

AQ-1135XX


“A joiner’s or cabinet-maker’s apprentice would find some instructive reading in this [The Joiner and Cabinet Maker] little work. It contains, in addition to certain rudimentary information, some hints to apprentices of how to turn their leisure hours to permanently useful account. The book is a good shilling’s worth.”

-The Furniture Gazette, Sept. 29, 1883.


Christopher Schwarz, editor of Popular Woodworking, and Joel Moskowitz, founder  of Tools for Working Wood, have teamed up to reprint, expand and annotate the 1839 edition of The Joiner and Cabinet Maker.  I also contributed a chapter,  “Contextualizing ‘The Joiner and Cabinet Maker'”, so am unapologetically biased about this book!

The first section reproduces the complete 1839 edition, which consists of a fictional boy describing his apprenticeship, accompanied by a large amount of historical information about cabinet making in the mid to late 19th century.  The next section consists of Chris following the textual descriptions in the book and builds three projects; a packing box, a schoolbox and a chest of drawers.  In a conversational writing style, he adds his own knowledge of woodworking techniques, bits of history and documents building the projects photographically–the overall effect is like having a private tutor guide you through the project.

I examine three editions of this book (1839, 1841, 1883), relate them to the history of book structure, then investigate how their physicality influences our interpretation of the text.  I am very interested how craft based information gets transmitted through descriptions and manuals. The hands on explication of  historic texts, rather than just reading, is invaluable to a deep understanding, and often opens up new areas of inquiry.  Also, I attempt to make a case for the value of primary sources and their conservation, written for the general public, rather than preaching to the usual conservation and rare book choir.

For readers who haven’t attempted any woodworking, this book has enough general information, historical details and how-to information to serve as an wonderful introduction.

The book is available for sale from Tools for Working Wood. 373 pages, tons of photos, acid free paper, sewn signatures, hardcover. One shilling. $28.95

I should be getting copies in sheets later this month, that I will be selling, and well as providing it for students in the historically oriented Cloth Case Binding  class I am teaching at North Bennet Street School, Boston, February 19-21, 2010.

I also want to credit Matt Murphy for assisting me with some  research, especially concerning Charles Knight & Co. Thanks Matt, librarians rule!

Expressions of Power: Reflections on Centrale Montemartini

cm_1

What is going on here?   Why are these statues displayed in front of large industrial machinery?  What does it mean to display art in a factory, along with machines and tools? Is this merely a dramatic juxtaposition or are there deeper connections to be made?    Is this an example of bringing art to the masses?  Or is this a set for an unrealized Star Trek episode?

Pictured above is the Montemartini Thermoelectric Power Plant, located in Rome, Italy. In 1997, due to renovation at a number of the museums on the Capitoline Museums (Museo del Palasso dei Conservatori, Museuo Nuovo, Braccio Nuovo) many Roman artifacts were relocated to a then defunct power station that was built in 1912.  The temporary exhibition, originally titled The Machines and the Gods, proved to be so popular, the power station was made a permanent part of the Museum system and today houses many of its recent acquisitions.

Upon entering the building, the viewer is immediately plunged into sensory confusion– two fastidiously cleaned steam turbines (each roughly 25 meters long and 10 meters high)  are flanked by rows of Roman busts and sculptures.  A 20-Ton crane hangs over fragments of a Pediment from 179 BC.  Statues in the engine room keep a quiet watch on the non-functioning machinery.  The smell of the oil and grease permeates the air, so strongly, in fact as to give the viewer pause when gazing upon these white marble statures–as if one’s eyes alone could stain their surface.  Usually statues like these are encountered in lofty remove–the neutral white cube of museum space, reconstructed archaeological sites or in the pages of art books– here they are visiting us in perhaps the most prosaic of environments, a factory.

cm_3

And the fact that the viewer is in a factory is never far from consciousness. It would not be out of place to expect to punch a timeclock when entering this museum.  But the time clock would not be for the visitors, but for these sculptures, forced to eternally  monitor these  machines, like a scene from an unwritten science fiction fairy tale.  Factories force us to think of time– of the assembly line, of mechanization, of time motion studies–while these statues embody the classic ideals of timelessness in art.

The silence in this factory is startling– there is no clanking of wrenches, no hissing of an air compressor, no humming of a motor —  just silence and stillness. Their massive presence and smell are the  only reminders of the billions and billions of kilowatts of electricity once generated here. The silence of this factory, of these quiet machines pairs remarkably well with the statues frozen in an often incomprehensible gesture.  Both are in some senses defunct.  The machines are no longer in operation, and the names and gestures associated with the statues are unknown to most modern viewers.  They are enshrined in this space, silent witnesses in this odd time capsule.

The statues and the machinery interact in unpredictable ways.  The parade of white, sometime armless, legless torsos against a backdrop of black machinery presents an interlocking dynamic that connects the crippled, nonfunctioning machines with the statues.  Are they are both deserving of sympathy, or even pity?  Or are these statues a factory owners vision of his workforce- mute, lifeless, headless in many cases, maimed– standing at eternal attention to the machines, yet not lifting a finger to do anything.   Perhaps these machines a concrete reminder that only when we are freed of our basic needs–such as energy– can we create art? Could these statues be regarded as ghosts of injured workers, condemed to constantly regard the place of their trauma?  Possibly the statues are warily watching the machines, puzzled by this 20th century behemoth.

cm_4

Juxtapositions abound in this museum, and relentlessly  overturn conventional distinctions of aesthetics and meaning– suddenly the polished cast bronze wheel of a high pressure pipeline seems as interesting and important as a delicately carved marble crown.  The white surfaces of the marble leap out against the black boilers.  The curves of a human body paired with the linear placement of hex head bolts.  These dirty monsters of work almost touch these Roman ideals of beauty.

Fundamentally, both the sculptures and the machines in the factory,  are expressions of power.  The sculptures reflect the power of an individual to command or pay for a statue that will outlive them.  The machines reflect the power of their makers to  extend, increase and transcend our physical limitations, as well as originally creating electrical energy from diesel and steam.  These massive machines are allegoric  to  the work of an artist who extracts the essentials from reality in the act of creation.  Power and transcendence– perhaps the two of the most basic ingredients of Art?

Below, I am taking a picture of a large head, with an  engine behind.  I am dwarfed by the power and size of the machine, and have to look up to the multitude of statues as well. Machines are de facto public expressions of power, rated  in non-human terms of horsepower, in this case 7,500 of them.  Most of the statues in this museum were originally on public display.  Electricity itself can be considered a primary expression of power by the state- consider the philosophy of those “living off the grid” or who are Amish.

cm_7

Visually, much of the joy of looking at tools or machines comes from trying to figure out how it works, or even more basically what the parts do, and how they fit into a whole.  (1) In some senses, the machines can be regarded as pure description– the parts essentially describe themselves and what they do– there is no narrative to explain them.  The statues, with their narrative symbolic meanings,  belong to the world of Art.  But in this context, as one views both of them together, they merge and overlap in intriguing ways.  A circle of bolts on a cylinder  possesses an unexpected harmony and grace.  Conversely, the clothing on the statues, detailed and realistic,  accurately describes the technology of the cloth and of clothing– the art moves a bit closer to our vernacular world, without diminishment, and the vernacular a bit closer to the realm of art.

And what could be more a product of vernacular culture than a tool?  Considering that they form a large percentage of extant artifacts from prehistory, it is surprisingly rare to see modern examples on display in museums. The tools in this museum are displayed as artifacts, impressive for their size and perhaps a reminder that it is the humans who have their hand on them, controlling and maintaining these collosal machines.  But they also belong to the past and are now entombed and only presenting their visual aspects.

cm_9

cm_12

One of the freizes in the museum also depicts the tools of the carpenters Guild who constructed the roof on the Temple of Capitoline Jupiter in the 6th century.   I imagine the figures were originally  using tools, although the evidence is now lost. On the upper left of this image there is the most graceful outside caliper I have ever seen, an unidentified tool (or a stool?), a hammer (or axe?), and a bowsaw.   There is a very long history of workers wanting to be pictured with their tools, again, they give the workers power in shaping matter, and can become symbols of the power, skill and knowledge that craftsmen posses.

cm_8

Another visual link between the sculptures and the machinery are the mounts and support rods (visible in the photo above  under this marble fragment) which are echoed in the walkways, banisters, connecting rods and pipes that surround the machines.  Typically, the job of museum mounters is to provide support and protection by being visually unobstrusive- here, however, they form a link between the sculptures and machines.  While the rods and bolts support the sculptures, they contain the machinery, keeping it from exploding when it was in operation.

Both the factory  and the museum lie somewhat outside “real” life.  We are forced to check our baggage and leave it locked securely before we enter.  And the symbolic implications are the same- we pass through the door (sometimes in factory work changing our cloths, assuming a new identity) lock up our possessions which are stored under lock and key, which we wil retrieve when we leave. We often pay, or are paid to enter these spaces. In each, as a viewer or worker, there are certain social conventions most of us follow. This factory/museum questions some of those assumptions.  To enter each is to enter into a contract to explore the potential challanges that the overall experience raises, then, regretably, leave it behind when we leave.

But I am unwilling to mentally leave this factory, just yet.  Thinking about it allows me to explore the differences and similarities  between factory/ museum, art/ artifact/ tools, artwork/ factory-work,– and  many , many other inspiring and provocative aspects.  The curators and designers have brought two previously isolated aspects of human culture together, the machines and the gods, and each reveals something about the other in new and unexpected ways.

cm_2

NOTES

1.  I speculated on some of the ways tools impart meaning, and how that meaning is difficult to interpret visually  in Conservation and Tools: An Enquiry into Nature and Meaning., published in The Bonefolder, Vol. 1 No. 1, 2004.