This hilarious skit is from “The New Show” and featured the late John Candy.
Thanks to the awesome Mark Anderson, The Elizabeth Terry Seaks Senior Furniture Conservator at the Winterthur/ University of Delaware Art Conservation Program, for sharing this with me.
The humor is spot on, including the all-to-common need to explain why hand work is so expensive, even on cheap machine-made items. And don’t miss the masking tape scene near the end.
I made this reproduction 18th century French wooden straightedge. Does using it to make a historic bookbinding model *really* affect the process or outcome? Am I heading down the road of wearing a faux French craftsman costume while I do this?
Skillful use of hand tools often depends on their embodiment. They literally become become extensions of our consciousness and body. We think through them in use, not about them. Don Idhe’s example of driving a car is useful. We don’t have to pay conscious attention to where we are on the road. We just drive. The car is a complex tool that has become embodied. We constantly unconsciously adjust to keeping it on the road. In bookbinding, paring leather is a similar unconscious complex activity. If you are interested in this kind of thing, Don Idhe’s Technology and The Lifeworld is a exceedingly readable philosophy of technology.
All craft activities have a greater or lesser degree of embodiment, it accounts for some of their joy, relaxation and pleasure. We get out of ourselves for a while. People often remark on how a tool fits their hand, or is an extension of it, and that it disappears in use. And how time quickly disappears when engaged by using it.
In teaching historic bookbinding structures, however, that these ingrained habits can be counterproductive when trying to recreate, or at least understand in detail, the nuances of earlier techniques. This is one reason for using historic and reproduction tools. They can help take us out of the familiar, and challange our ingrained craft skills. They force us to rethink our relationship to a particular tool, and by extension our relationship with the object being crafted. It is all too easy to slip into 21st century work habits when trying to construct a 16th century Gothic binding.
Using historic tools may or may not be the easiest way to do a particular task. When conserving a book there are many other considerations, including the safety of the original artifact, so many historic tools and techniques are not appropriate. And of course, the skill, experience and ability of the conservator is a significant factor. But by in large, the traditional tools of hand bookbinding have not been mechanized because they are an efficient and accurate way of working.
Possibly the most important aspect of using historic tools, or reproductions, is they aid in interpreting historic techniques. Binding a book in an historic style, even inexpertly, helps us understand deeply how older books were made. And isn’t this type of knowledge at the core of any book conservation treatment?
Someone — not me! — converted a standard WWII M-1937 Canvas Field Cooking Outfit Bag into an apron. When not used as an apron, the tools store in the appropriately labeled pockets. Although I can’t condone altering historical artifacts, this is a pretty cool idea.
Someone should make a Bookbinder’s Apron/ Tool Roll. What are the essential bookbinding tools?
Currently my most used tools are: two 1″ Princeton Brush Co. Gesso brushes, two #8 Princeton Brush Co. flat hog bristle brushes, a Delrin Hera, a large Jim Croft elk bone folder, a Green River Shop knife, a Japanese water brush, a 5″ Mundial scissors, Dumont and Sons #2a and #5 tweezers, a M2 Paring knife, a Pentel .7mm mechanical pencil, a thick steelcraft 12″ tempered ruler, an NT A-300GR snap-off knife, a Caselli Micro-spatula, a Delrin folder, and a 6″ Stevens dividers.
Add an adjustable neck, side-ties long enough to knot in front, and you have your first sale right here!