Several issues continued.
This is supposedly polychromed leather from about 1500. I'm not sure that it is a correct assessment: the style of the art looks too old-fashioned for 1500. I'd have to have more than the antique dealer's word for it to believe it to be what she says it is. It may be earlier, or it may be neogothic. ::shrug:: I have no way of knowing, but it is a very nice piece, no matter what its age.
Here is the surface of the blank-table after having been written upon with graphite, walnut ink, and leadpoint. I tried the ink first, and it wiped off but for the ghost writing seen here. Graphite not only wiped off easily, it smeared when rubbed, making it a less-than-optimal choice, as well. However, the leadpoint worked exactly as how described in the period instructions for use: wet your finger and rub it out. Poof, it was gone but for a faint impression left by the pressure of writing. Sweeeeeeeeet. Modern gesso is pretty much the same thing as period gesso, but for the glue base, and it's my feeling that the PVA is probably an improvement over the hide glue that one uses in classic gesso, because this way, you don't really need to let the pages dry for a long period of time before closing the book. The glue does not soften after wetting.
I did try slight sanding of the page to remove the ghost of the walnut ink, but I would have had to remove too much to allow it to be reused. However, that might be the key to reconditioning the pages: remove the top layers and regesso once the tables have been so used that they can no longer be read when written upon.
Regarding blank signatures of vellum: I finally got around to digging out the blank signature I owned, purchaed from C. E. Puckett several years ago. It's still got traces of the binding, a heavier vellum wrapper and 6 bifolia that once had manuscript cuttings glued to the pages. There is also traces of glue on the inside of the wrapper vellum, so all pages of this signature were itended for use; however, a couple of pages are apparently untouched. Based on the appearance of the dried glue, it's some kind of organic: it looks exactly like dried mucilage or dried rabbit skin glue.
The signature is purported to be from 1475-1500 France, and if it is the sort of blank signature referenced in Stationer's inventories of the era, then they were careless with the creation of such things. The page cutting is uneven and there are still lead lines along the cut edges. The lines do not smear when rubbed with a dry finger, and a plastic eraser only works partly; there is still a distinct lead line. The cut edges are very ragged.
The binding has partially disintergrated; the thread doesn't feel as if it has been waxed.
The cuttings were supposedly added in the 19th c; a collector of some sort. I don't know if the collector obtained a sheet of 16th c. vellum and cut and bound it him or herself, or if he/she acquired a signature as part of his/her collecting activitiy. The interesting thing about the binding is that it is insufficiently distinct to be able to tell. The binding holes pierce the entire signature, cover included, are unevenly spaced, much like that odd little commonplace book at the Yale library (referenced in this entry).
However, Puckett guarantees the authenticity of his stock, so it's reasonable to presume it is what he's telling me it is: a sixteenth c. signature that was used to hold cuttings that have since been removed.
Here is the surface of the blank-table after having been written upon with graphite, walnut ink, and leadpoint. I tried the ink first, and it wiped off but for the ghost writing seen here. Graphite not only wiped off easily, it smeared when rubbed, making it a less-than-optimal choice, as well. However, the leadpoint worked exactly as how described in the period instructions for use: wet your finger and rub it out. Poof, it was gone but for a faint impression left by the pressure of writing. Sweeeeeeeeet. Modern gesso is pretty much the same thing as period gesso, but for the glue base, and it's my feeling that the PVA is probably an improvement over the hide glue that one uses in classic gesso, because this way, you don't really need to let the pages dry for a long period of time before closing the book. The glue does not soften after wetting.I did try slight sanding of the page to remove the ghost of the walnut ink, but I would have had to remove too much to allow it to be reused. However, that might be the key to reconditioning the pages: remove the top layers and regesso once the tables have been so used that they can no longer be read when written upon.
Regarding blank signatures of vellum: I finally got around to digging out the blank signature I owned, purchaed from C. E. Puckett several years ago. It's still got traces of the binding, a heavier vellum wrapper and 6 bifolia that once had manuscript cuttings glued to the pages. There is also traces of glue on the inside of the wrapper vellum, so all pages of this signature were itended for use; however, a couple of pages are apparently untouched. Based on the appearance of the dried glue, it's some kind of organic: it looks exactly like dried mucilage or dried rabbit skin glue.
The signature is purported to be from 1475-1500 France, and if it is the sort of blank signature referenced in Stationer's inventories of the era, then they were careless with the creation of such things. The page cutting is uneven and there are still lead lines along the cut edges. The lines do not smear when rubbed with a dry finger, and a plastic eraser only works partly; there is still a distinct lead line. The cut edges are very ragged.
The binding has partially disintergrated; the thread doesn't feel as if it has been waxed.
The cuttings were supposedly added in the 19th c; a collector of some sort. I don't know if the collector obtained a sheet of 16th c. vellum and cut and bound it him or herself, or if he/she acquired a signature as part of his/her collecting activitiy. The interesting thing about the binding is that it is insufficiently distinct to be able to tell. The binding holes pierce the entire signature, cover included, are unevenly spaced, much like that odd little commonplace book at the Yale library (referenced in this entry).
However, Puckett guarantees the authenticity of his stock, so it's reasonable to presume it is what he's telling me it is: a sixteenth c. signature that was used to hold cuttings that have since been removed.
posted by Merouda @ 6:58 AM
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