Wednesday, September 25, 2013

113. Charles Ricketts on film

There are painted portraits and photographs of Charles Ricketts, but some moving images of him have been preserved as well. In 1926, Ricketts was filmed while he was working on the rough sketches for the new set of costumes for The Mikado, the Gilbert and Sullivan opera. This promotional film of the D'Oyly Cart company can be seen on YouTube.


Charles Ricketts at work on the sketches for The Mikado (1926)
The title of the film is 'The Mikado redressed in 1720 Period Costumes', and it contains 'exclusive pictures in colour' of 'the new designs by Mr. Charles Ricketts, A.R.A.'. There are images from several scenes in the opera. After circa 3 minutes a text announces images of 'Mr. Charles Ricketts, who designed the costumes, at work on the rough sketches'. He sits at a table, with a sketch board in his lap, and a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. The floor is scattered with designs. 

Next, we are informed that 'the famous artist has no use for an ash tray', as he uses a bowl of water for cleaning his brush as well as for extinguishing his cigarettes. An assistant picks up the bowl of dirty water and several cigarettes, and also an almost unused ash tray, and provides the artist with a bowl of clean water, in which he immediately cleans his brush before throwing in another cigarette.


Charles Ricketts during a break (1926)
Then a wall with fourteen sketches comes in sight, followed by a close up of Ricketts on the balcony of his studio during a break. He talks to the camera, alas, the words are not recorded (we need a lip reader for that). Then he takes off his glasses, and laughs, uncovering his rather bad front teeth.

Ricketts was almost sixty at the time. Although the whole sequence does not take longer than about a minute, it is of course touching to see him alive. 

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

112. The death of a vellum subscriber

Last week, I wrote about the collector Laurence Hodson, whose impressive collection was sold earlier this year. 

After the closure of the Vale Press in the Summer of 1904, Hodson bought six vellum copies that were offered to him by Ricketts. This happened a few months after the last book of the Vale Press had been published, A Bibliography of the Vale Press (June 1904). A vellum copy had been reserved for Hodson and was dispatched in August 1904.


Announcement of A Bibliography of the Vale Press (1904) [detail]
In a letter, postmarked 23 September 1904, Ricketts wrote to Hodson: 'The unreasoning death of one of my vellum subscribers has placed six Vale vellums on my hands'. 
He offered, 'at Booksellers discount', the following:

The Parables  £ 6 . 6 . 0
Ecclesiastes  £ 5 . 5 . 0 
Amber Witch  £ 9 . 9 . 0
Julia Domna  £ 4 . 4 . 0
Kingis Quair  £ 4 . 4 . 0
Danaë  £ 5 . 5 . 0

Hodson seized the opportunity, and bought the lot. On 23 September Ricketts wrote that the books 'will be shipped soon', but on the 29th he added that he still had 'to get Shannon in a packing mood in conjuction with brown paper which is not always easy'. Shannon used to pack their paintings, prints, or books, to be send off to exhibitions, or buyers, as in this case; and in the earlier years he also used to write letters for Ricketts, who would only add his signature underneath. On 24 October 1904 the magic packing trick had been performed.

The Hodson sale may have given the impression that Hodson collected all paper copies and all vellum copies, but in fact, in some cases, he must have had duplicate vellum copies. One of them, a copy of The Parables, was inscribed by him to another collector in 1918. This copy later turned up in the collection of Robert Wayne Stilwell. A second copy was in the Hodson sale in April 2013.
Announcement of A Bibliography of the Vale Press (1904) [detail]
Ricketts's list of prices gives a unique insight into the vellum business practices. The annoucements of the Vale Press books did not mention a price for the vellum copies, as they were all subscribed beforehand. There is one exception. The prospectus for the bibliography, probably issued late May, early June 1904, mentioned: 'Two hundred and fifty copies printed in red and black for England and America, ten on Vellum. Price fifteen shillings net on paper, three guineas on Vellum.'

The bibliography was not on the list, and the prices for the vellum books that were on offer are new to us.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

111. Special bindings for a Vale Press collector

Not much is known about contemporary collectors of Vale Press books. A large collection was owned by the architect and surveyor John Morgan (of Rubislaw House, Aberdeen), for whom Ricketts designed a bookplate in 1899. He ordered books from Ricketts, and his collection was auctioned in 1908. The American collector Emilie Grigsby sold her collection in 1912, Max Kirdorf's collection was sold in 1929, Thomas Bird Mosher's collection was for sale in 1948, but it is doubtful whether any of them bought their copies directly from Hacon and Ricketts in London.

There is one exception, Laurence Hodson (1863-1933), the West Midlands brewery owner, collector and philanthropist. See my earlier blog on The Laurence Hodson Sale. A batch of letters written by Ricketts, Shannon, and C.J. Holmes, manager of the Vale Press, emerged from his collection, containing details on acquisitions, and discussing copies printed on vellum.

As soon as Ricketts announced he was to design special bindings in pigskin and morocco, Hodson must have placed an order. This followed the decision to publish, apart from paper copies, a small number of copies on vellum. The first book of which vellum copies were printed was the English edition of Apuleius' Cupid and Psyche (November 1897), but there were only two vellum copies. Of E.B. Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese eight copies were printed on vellum, and later vellum editions were usually limited to ten copies. 

E.B. Browning, Sonnets from the Portuguese (Vale Press, 1897) [vellum copy, binding for Laurence Hodson, dated '1889', read: 1898 or 1899]
In a letter of 28 October 1901, Holmes wrote that Hodson had been 'our first subscriber' to vellum copies, which must have been in 1897, as the earliest letter to have survived seems to be a letter by Holmes to Hodson from 1897.

A letter from Charles Ricketts to Laurence Hodson
The first letter written by Ricketts to Hodson is postmarked 1 September 1898. I can quote and illustrate it in full, thanks to Bromer Booksellers who now offer this letter for sale. It was written by Ricketts, not at home or at the printer's, but from Hacon & Ricketts's shop, 'At the Sign of the Dial':

Charles Ricketts, Letter to Laurence Hodson, 1 September 1898, p. [1]  [image provided by Bromer Booksellers]
52 Warwick Street
Regent Street

My dear Hodson
Your vellum copies will reach you in a few days, they have been finished this week past, but there are one or two delicate amendments to be made by the good binder, and on Holmes' return they will reach you with the ever persistent account.
I find the dictionary lacking in beautiful words to express my admiration and astonishment over these new designs of mine and Time only "that great colourist" could improve them, by that tender warming of the red of which he has the secret.


Charles Ricketts, Letter to Laurence Hodson, 1 September 1898, p. [2-3]  [image provided by Bromer Booksellers]
With regard to your very own extra special design I am hesitating about: the future use of plate blocks and in the light of recent investigations we may leave the good Rivière for the gooder Leighton who used to bind for Morris (he has lost all his hair) he has the use of the Kelmscott founts for Kelmscott bindings (we have just cast a Vale set of punches) a great advantage this for the binding of our beautiful books.
I have been binding some Morris books in rose gardens, forests, and cathedral front doors for the good Downing of Birmingham I feel after all this exercise of design and gold stamps that the books should belong to me and not leave Warwick Street, or rather Richmond.
I find that Reuter the illuminator has left England for the continent, not on a visit, but for good, that he may live on a small income of his and yet illuminate.
Shannon & I are for the bloody sea-side, on our return I hope we shall see you again in Richmond.
I fancy that Shannon will not have finished against the Autumn much else besides my portrait, but it is a big thing and only wants a little varnish to be ready for the National Gallery.
Do remember me to Mrs Hodson
and believe me
ever yours
CS Ricketts

[Downing was a bookseller from Birmingham; Shannon's portrait of Ricketts is now in the National Portrait Gallery.]


Charles Ricketts, Letter to Laurence Hodson, envelope postmarked 1 September 1898 [image provided by Bromer Booksellers]
The earlier books were all bound in paper covers, for which the paper title labels were printed at the Ballantyne Press (the one exception being the first book, Milton's Early Poems, which had a leather title label on some copies, while others had the title printed in gold on the buckram spine). For the lettering of his special leather bindings, the binder needed to have Vale type, and, as Ricketts mentioned, he had given orders to cast punches for that purpose.

Vellum copies
It seems that Ricketts left the binder Rivière for Leighton, Son, and Hodge around this time, although he also had business with Zaehnsdorf, but the bindings are not signed. They are marked with the Hacon & Ricketts initials, sometimes accompanied by those of the collector. Not only vellum copies were bound in specially designed bindings, some collectors also wanted the earlier paper copies to match their sets. Lord Rosebery, for example, ordered such bindings for several early Vale Press books.

The vellum for the Vale Press books was manufactured by Henry Band and Co in Brentford. Printing vellum copies, which happened after the paper copies had been printed, proved to be difficult, and at one point there was a 'virtual strike over their vellum books' at the Ballantyne Press, as Paul Delaney recorded. Ricketts made a note of that in his diary for 13 August 1901. The costs involved were high, and that is why Ricketts decided not to print vellum copies for the collected edition of Shakespeare that appeared between 1900 and 1903. C.J. Holmes explained this in a letter to Hodson (28 October 1901): 'the cost would be so great, at least £180 apiece, that they might prove only a splendid species of white elephant'.

The Cellini Binding 
Binding vellum copies was quite a challenge. For the two volumes of The Life of Benvenuto Cellini (302x205 mm) Hodson had ordered a special binding, and Holmes wrote him on 28 October 1901, almost a year after its publication: 'Your vellum Cellini is at last finished & has been sent off to you today. It has been rather a large undertaking - over 2000 toolings in all! but I trust you will think the result justifies the trouble. We haven't printed any vellum copies of our recent books as the supply of vellum lately has been uneven in quality & in consequence, we have found it difficult to ensure having out as good work as we want to do. This doesn't of course apply to your books, as you being our first subscriber get first pick of the lot'. 

The trouble over the binding can be deduced from Holmes remarks: 'it apparently takes a good deal to destroy good morocco & a book like the vellum Cellini is not likely to be dropped in a pond or left on a roof by accident for a few months'. Indeed, in April 2013, the Hodson copy sold for £8500. The design had 'twenty-nine rows of alternating LH monogram and bird and spray of leaves tool interspersed with small dots' (see the catalogue description). The bird and leaves motif was based on the Hodson family crest. 

Earlier, on 22 August 1901, Ricketts had written to Hodson that he had decided not to use clasps for the bindings, 'as my working jeweller has gone on strike, no, not on strike, he has refused point blank to work any more for me, for ever and ever!' Printers, binders, jewellers, all were exposed to Ricketts's fits of temper if in his eyes their work did not come close to perfection. However, Ricketts wrote to Hodson: 'The vellum Cellinis are a great success, but in the face of the difficulties of binding vellum, there is a chance of our dropping vellum altogether, all the big London binders being either on my black books or on the outer edge of strike, revolt, retaliation & revenge.'

The letters are for sale at Bromer Booksellers.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

110. A Figure Study by Charles Shannon

The firm of Abbott and Holder will exhibit some twentieth century watercolours and drawings at their premises in London's Museum Street (No. 30). The exhibition opens at 12 p.m. on Saturday 7 September, and the show closes on 5 October. The works have been on view already since Saturday 31 August, however, nothing will be sold before the actual exhibition opens.

On show are works by Edward Ardizzone (a sketch for The Festival of Britain, 1951), Max Beerbohm (a drawing of Lord William Nevill), Dora Carrington (a pencil portrait of Ralph Partridge, nude, seated in an armchair, 1921), Augustus John (a composition study), and other works by the likes of Paul Nash, Ronald Searle, Walter Sickert, and Stephen Tennant.

Listed as number 68 is a drawing by Charles Shannon. It is a figure study in red and black chalks, signed and dated, 1911 ('11x16 inches. Framed: 18.5x22.5 inches'). The price is £1600.


Charles Shannon, Figure study (1911)
The drawing depicts three figures: a bending figure, feet wide apart, probably male, dressed in a long sleeveless shirt; a bending topless female figure, and a smaller, seated female figure. The larger studies seem to be for field workers, such as harvesters.

The catalogue says: 'Nothing will be sold before the exhibition opens'.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

109. Oscar Wilde in Philadelphia

On my return from Philadelphia, last July, I was pleased to see a parcel from Oxford University Press with a copy of volume V of The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, subtitled Plays 1, containing the texts of The Duchess of Padua, Salomé (the original French text) and Salome (the English version). The combined texts only occupy some 285 pages, whereas the editorial matter needs another 500.


The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde, volume V
Oscar Wilde visited Philadelphia himself on his American tour in 1882. On 17 January 1882 (he arrived a day earlier) he lectured about 'The English Renaissance' at the Horticultural Hall in Fairmount Park, a building that was erected for the Centennial Exposition in 1875 and that lasted until 1954. In May Wilde returned there to speak about 'The House Beautiful' at the Association Hall (10 May). The 'Association' in question was the Young Men's Christian Association (YMCA), and its venue was located at 1430 Chestnut Street (at 15th Street) in a building that has since been demolished.

An announcement of the second lecture was printed on translucent paper. There is a copy in the Rosenbach Museum and Library. I did not see the flyer when I was there.

There is more about Wilde at the Rosenbach Museum and Library. An image in the new volume illustrates a floor plan for Salomé (the French original). Salomé, daughter of Herodias, dances for Herod, 'the Tetrarch'. Herod is so taken with her dance, that he promises her everything she wants, which turns out to be the head of John the Baptist, who is a captive (in a cistern) in the palace, and who is called Iokanaan. Salomé has fallen in love with him, he has refused her, and she demands his execution by asking for his head on a silver tray. Then, while she kisses the dead lips, Herod has her killed. 

The 'ground plan' in the Philadelphia collection is in several hands. The hand of Wilde is easily recognizable, see for example his 'o la lune', and other words that are written in ink.


'Plan de la scene' for Salomé [detail] (Rosenbach Museum and Library)
The editor of this volume, Joseph Donohue, states: 'Another hand, in pencil, has adjusted some of the features of the scene, moving the wall of the building and the staircase to opposite positions and the cistern to the centre of the stage. The hand is probably that of Charles Ricketts, who, at an early point, at W[ilde]'s request sketched a ground plan for a production of the play - perhaps for Paul Fort's proposed production in 1892 - to which the present sketch may well be related. Ricketts later appears to have used this sketch for his own London production. Earlier, he discussed in detail with W, at W. request, details of the design that might be used for a production of the play.' (p. [508]).

However, the words written in pencil do not show Ricketts's characteristic handwriting. Although the re-location of staircase and cistern are confirmed by Ricketts's own staging of the play in 1906, we must still doubt his involvement in this particular, early sketch of the scene.

The Rosenbach also possesses the third manuscript draft of Salomé, with 'interlinear interventions in the presumed hand of Pierre Louÿs, whose grammatical corrections Wilde accepted but whose other suggestions he steadfastly rejected' (p. 335).

The long, informative introduction frequently quotes Ricketts, who repeatedly wrote about the play.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

108. The Rosenbach Museum

While I was in Philadelphia, I visited the Rosenbach Museum and Library, where an astonishing collection of books is being preserved in the former home of two (unmarried) brothers Rosenbach, A.S.W. (1876-1952) and Philip (1863-1953).


Entry to the Rosenbach Museum and Library
A.S.W. was the book dealer and book collector (the Folger and the Huntington Libraries benefited from his acute acquisitions in Great Britain); his brother Philip was the fine art dealer. Both were collectors in their own right. The Rosenbach Museum now holds the original manuscript of James Joyce's Ulysses and a shelf of Joseph Conrad manuscripts, as well as the papers of Marianne Moore and the drawings of Maurice Sendak.

The tour, on the eve of the SHARP 2013 conference in Philadelphia, allowed me to see some of the library's treasures.

After the tour, I asked for their copy of John Addington Symonds' In the Key of Blue (not yet in the catalogue of the Rosenbach), in order to check the signatures. (See my earlier blogs about this book: the first issue of In the Key of Blue, the signatures of In the Key of Blue, and Inked impressions of quads in In the Key of Blue). 


Detail of spine, J.A. Symonds, In the Key of Blue (1892)
The Rosenbach copy (shelf mark EL3. S988i)  is a well preserved copy in cream buckram, with the usual placing of the signatures (the A under ab in 'cinnabar' in the last line on page [1]).

It was tempting to ask for other books to come out of their glass cases, but there was no time. The upstairs library is a treasure trove, and the downstairs sitting and dining rooms make one wonder what went on in this collector's house.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

107. Vale Press books: printed on a hand-press or 'printed by machinery'

This week I was asked how the books at the Vale Press were printed, as there seemed to be no consensus about it. Since the press started in 1896, some commentators believed that the books were printed on a hand-press, others that the books were printed by machinery, probably on a rotary printing press.

The contradictory sources have a common root in the history of the Vale Press. Originally, Charles Ricketts and Charles Shannon used as their publisher's address, the house in The Vale, Chelsea, where they could print their own lithographs. For The Dial, they had to make use of book printers. For the first issue of this magazine, they went to Hazell, Watson and Viney, but the second and later issues were printed at the Ballantyne Press, as were all books issued by the Vale Press between 1896 and 1904.

At the time, no one gave a testimony of the presses that were at the disposal of Ricketts at the Ballantyne Press, which was a large printing establishment in London. The colophons, the prospectuses, even the bibliography of the Vale Press that was edited by Ricketts, made no mention of the presses on which the books were produced. This, obviously, points to a 'normal' procedure, one that was too common to mention.

Here follows a selection of opinions:

Ricketts told an interviewer: 'Fortunately, I have in Messrs. Ballantyne, my printers, and particularly in their London manager, Mr. MacColl, most enthusiastic helpers' (Temple Scott, 'Mr. Charles Ricketts and the Vale Press', in: Bookselling, December 1896, p. 506.)

In 1900, Charles Gerring wrote: 'It might be urged against the Vale books that they are printed by Messrs. Ballantyne. This criticism, however, does not go very far, and the only difference between the Vale and Kelmscott books in this respect is that Morris had the oversight of workmen in his own employ, while the Vale books are printed by craftsmen of a commercial house, but again under the supervision of the designer and builder of the page.'
(in Notes on printers and booksellers with a chapter on chap books. London, Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co., Ltd., Nottingham, Frank Murray, 1900, p. 32).

Others, at the time, also attested to the fact that Ricketts had his books printed at the Ballantyne Press, 'an arrangement which seems to answer perfectly', according to H.C. Marillier ('The Vale Press, and the Modern Revival of Printing', in: Pall Mall Magazine, October 1900, p. 188.)

The first testimony of a totally different approach to printing private press books was written by C.R. Ashbee in his book The Private Press. A Study in Idealism. To which is added a Bibliography of the Essex House Press (Broad Campden, Essex House Press, 1909, p. 47): 'Machine printed books can be, and often are, produced with as much beauty as hand printed books. I believe I am right in saying that the books of the Vale Press were nearly all printed by machinery'.
Here, the seeds of doubt were sown, and subsequent commentators were prone to think that Ricketts did not have his books printed on a hand-press. In 1913, Lucien Pissarro wrote to the Dutch private press owner J.F. van Royen that he surmised that Ricketts did not print the Vale Press books on a hand-press (quoted by J.P. Boterman, in Disteltype, corps 15. Over de Disteltype van J.F. van Royen en L. Pissarro, en de literatuur van de Zilverdistel. Amsterdam, De Buitenkant, 2000, p. 29).

W.G. Blaikie-Murdoch wrote that Ricketts decided 'simply to entrust his types to a firm of machine printers, whose doing he supervised with fastidious care' ('The Serbian National Sculptor: Being Some Account of Ivan Mestrovic and His Art', in: Art and Progress, December 1915, p. 450).

G.S. Tomkinson's Select Bibliography of the Principal Modern Presses Public and Private in Great Britain and Ireland provided a new clue: 'Although the actual printing was done on the premises of the Ballantyne Press, the Vale books were built entirely on Mr. Ricketts' design under his personal supervision on a press set apart for his sole use'. The last part of this sentence came to be repeated over and over, without solving the issue 
(London, The First Edition Club, 1928, p. 163).

The debate about the private press during the late twenties made an issue of printing at home. Will Ransom, in Private Presses and their Books, stated: 'One of the debated points in bibliography is whether or not Vale shall be considered a private press. In actual fact it was not, composition and presswork being done at the Ballantyne Press. Yet certain workmen and a press were assigned to work exclusively on Vale books under Ricketts' personal supervision, and his spirit was so unmistakably identical with that of the men who had their own plants, that the Vale Press is accepted as one of the group' (New York, R.R. Bowker Company, 1929, p. 39)'.

J.H. Mason, who worked for the Ballantyne Press, asserted that 'The Vale was strictly a residential quarter and so Ricketts transferred his Press to Ballantynes' (A selection from the notebooks of a scholar-printer. Leicester, The Twelve by Eight, 1961, p. [6]).

The Catalogue of the Edward Clark Library had 'typographical notes' by Harry Carter (Edinburgh: Privately Printed for Napier College of Commerce & Technology, Lothian Regional Council, 1976, p. 283) and professes that 'the printing was done at the Ballantyne Press on a hand-press.'

This was repeated by Stephen Calloway: 'The Ballantyne Press was still to be employed to carry out the actual printing, but now a hand press and a press-man were to be reserved there for the use of Ricketts alone' (Charles Ricketts. Subtle and fantastic decorator. London, Thames and Hudson, 1979, p. 18).

The introduction of the hand-press went without a reference.

When Paul Delaney published his biography of Ricketts he asserted that the beginnings of the press were located in their own home: 'At this time Ricketts's and Shannon's publishing venture was also making headway. The first publications from their own press (which they named after the Vale) were albums of prints by Lucien Pissarro and Shannon. An album of Lucien's woodcuts was ready as early as January 1892', and these and later albums 'show that Ricketts had first envisaged the Vale Press as an art, as well as a book, publisher. Lack of funds and equipment (for their press at the Vale was not suitable for books) necessitated a slow and modest beginning.' (Charles Ricketts. A Biography. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1990, p. 73).

Susan Ashbrook's wording of the issue was that 'Ricketts subcontracted his printing to the Ballantyne Press' (The private press movement in Britain 1890-1914. Boston, Boston University Graduate School, 1991, p. 81).


None of the above mention a source for either the rotary press or the hand-press.

David Butcher repeated the statement about the hand-press that was set apart for the Vale Press: 'Ricketts supervised the printing of Vale books by a pressman at the Ballantyne Press on a hand-press kept exclusively for Vale publications' (British Private Press Prospectuses, 1891-2001. Risbury, The Whittington Press, 2001, 
p. 59).

There was, however, an eye-witness report that went unnoticed and unpublished for almost a century. Charles Home McCall, son of the manager of the Ballantyne Press, had left a testimony, which was quoted, in an edited form, by Maureen Watry in her book The Vale Press (2004). At the back, a portion of McCall's memoirs is printed, but the parts about the Vale Press are dispersed over quotations in the introduction. Almost no quote in this book is free from errors, as I explained in my review of the book for The Library, and this means that one has to find a way to quote the original unpublished notes to be sure.

Nevertheless, the evidence points to the use of a hand-press, because, at the time, hand-presses were set apart for
limited editions, and also for printing large paper copies, for economical reasons. 

An Albion press
Watry, perhaps accurately, quoted McCall on the actual printing of Vale Press books: 'Imposition was by half-sheets for printing on a "work-and-turn" basis, each sheet thereby yielding two copies of eight pages each, rather than one of sixteen pages. The commercial output of the Ballantyne Press was imposed in multiples of thirty-two or sixty-four pages for machine printing, whereas Vale Press volumes were printed four or eight pages to the sheet on a hand[-]press. The imposition of fewer pages at a time ensured "a more evenly perfect inking and impression as can be on a small sheet".' (p. 42)

The books were printed on Albion presses, 'by "a famous Albion press-man", Mr. Arnold, assisted by "a senior apprentice, Mr. Crews".' And Crews 'would pass the doubled-banded inking roller over the forme, then swing over the tympan, run in the forme on the press by use of the handle and draw-over the impression lever' (p. 42-43). 

When I reviewed Watry's book many years ago, I pleaded for a complete (facsimile) edition of McCall's memoirs of the Vale Press. I will not repeat myself, but surely, someone can publish scans of the original manuscript online?

They constitute our only reliable source for this issue.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

106. Brother Printer

In The Grolier Club, last July, I saw a copy of Ricketts's posthumous publication, Recollections of Oscar Wilde (1932).

The book is printed by George W. Jones at the Dolphin Press, in Linotype Granjon type, on Van Gelder paper, in an edition of 800 copies. Most copies are numbered, but there are some unnumbered copies, one of which was listed by Claude Cox in his catalogue 99 (1993). This particular copy was 'out of series for review'.

Other unnumbered copies ended up in copyright libraries, such as the Bodleian Library (shelf mark 2696. d 214). 

Complimentary copies were also among the unnumbered ones; the artist and poet Thomas Sturge Moore had a copy like that, and another example can be found in The Grolier Club's collection.

Charles Ricketts, Recollections of Oscar Wilde (1932): colophon of a copy in the Grolier Club, New York
It has the 'out of series' note handwritten by 'F.M.', Francis Meynell, the designer and publisher of the book for the Nonesuch Press.

Dedication from Francis Meynell to Geo W. Jones in Charles Ricketts, Recollections of Oscar Wilde (1932) [Grolier Club, New York]
In the front of the book is a handwritten dedication from the designer/publisher to the printer: 'To Brother Printer / with the regards and thanks of / the Fidgetter of types / Francis Meynell / July / 1932'.
Brother Printer... A book dealer has annotated this in pencil to explain the identity of the 'brother'...

[For my visit to the Grolier Club, see also blog 105: An Attack on the Defence of the Revival of Printing.]

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

105. An Attack on the Defence of the Revival of Printing

On Friday 19 July, after I delivered my paper on the reprints of T.J. Cobden-Sanderson's tract The Ideal Book at the SHARP conference in Philadelphia, I took an Amtrak train to New York for a meeting at The Grolier Club

The Grolier Club, conveniently located at the Plaza Hotel side of Central Park, at 47 East 60th Street, has its windows temporarily shielded against dust and debris, now that the next door building is being demolished, and a skyscraper is to be erected on the site. Nikolai Fedak wrote about the location - between Fifth and Madison Avenue – that this is 'an address that bests any competing development, and the skyscraper will possess some of the best Central Park views in the city. Designed by Robert A.M. Stern, 45 East 60th Street will rise 52 stories and 780 feet. The tower is expected to contain 40 units, and most floors will be split between duplex apartments, though the top unit will be an enormous triplex.'

The occupant of one of the lower floor apartments will possibly enjoy the proximity of his own books to those in The Grolier Club's library, as the bookcases to the wall in the picture will be adjacent to the new building.
Library, The Grolier Club, New York, 19 July 2013
The Grolier Club building, designed by Bertram G. Goodhue, was built in 1917. Before that, the Club was housed at other New York venues. After its foundation in 1884, the Club first had its headquarter in a few rented rooms at 64 Madison Avenue. In 1890, the Club moved to a Romanesque Revival building that was purpose-built for the society at 29 East 32nd Street; nowadays a designated landmark (I am freely quoting from the society's website). The present Clubhouse is a neo-Georgian six-story town-house.
Bookcase in the Second Floor Gallery, The Grolier Club, New York, 19 July 2013
During my visit, I noticed a Ricketts binding in one of the exhibition cases in the Second Floor Gallery. In the upper right-hand corner one sees a copy of Charles Ricketts's Beyond the Threshold, in the red leather binding that was gilded after a design by the author. The book was published in 1929 in an edition of 150 copies.

The librarian, Meghan Constantinou, pulled out some special Ricketts related items from the Club's vast collection of prints, auction catalogues, books on printing, and fine printing. It gives me pleasure to thank her for this illustration of the institute's kind hospitality.

The Grolier Club copy of Ricketts's A Defence of the Revival of Printing (published June 1899) has a tipped-in letter from Theodore Low De Vinne, one of the nine founders of the Club, to the engraver and art dealer Samuel Putnam Avery, dated 23 October 1899. The book also contains Avery's bookplate. De Vinne's letter reveals his hostility towards the claims of William Morris and other artists who had turned to book design. The letter reads:


Letter from Th. L. De Vinne, 23 October 1899 [The Grolier Club, New York]
300 West Seventy-Sixth Street
23 October 1899
Dear Mr. Avery,
With this I send the two volumes of Mackail's "Life of Morris", Rickett's [sic] "Defence of the Revival of Printing", "The Hymn of Bardaisan", and Morris's "Ash and Beauty of Enoch".
I say with Job - "Miserable comforters are ye all." The amount of sensible and practical instruction is small; the volume of conceit and dogmatism is great. After four hundred years of practice in printing it seems somewhat audacious in men who have never been taught the rudiments of the trade, to put themselves on a high perch and tell printers everywhere that they are the true evangelists in art!'
Yours cordially,
Theo. L. De Vinne

Verso of letter from Th. L. De Vinne, 23 October 1899 [The Grolier Club, New York]
Theodore Low De Vinne, who would publish the first volume of his influential Practice of Typography the next year, also wrote 'Some Comments on the Imitators of William Morris', which appeared in The New York Times Saturday Review of 27 October 1900. In that essay he mentioned Ricketts.

The revival of printing was defended by Charles Ricketts after critical essays about the Vale Press typography. But his tract did not change Theodore Low De Vinne's attitude towards the artists who, following the footsteps of William Morris, trained themselves as graphic designers avant le motFrom this letter it clearly emerges that De Vinne felt hurt by these outsider's comments on the printing trade. In his view, fine printing did not need artists, but well trained printers.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

104. White Nights in Philadelphia

The SHARP conference on the history of authorship, reading and publishing, held in Philadelphia this year, was a memorable event, not only because of the high temperatures and the impressive university buildings, but mostly of course thanks to stimulating talks in a rapid succession of parallel sessions. 

There were tours to quite a few libraries. I was at a presentation at the Rare Book Collection of the Free Library of Philadelphia, and before that I walked into the room of the Print and Picture Collection to ask for works by Ricketts and Shannon.


Print and Picture Collection, Free Library of Philadelphia, 18 July 2013
I did not have an appointment - I was an hour early for the tour - but the people of the Free Library immediately checked the catalogue for Ricketts and Shannon material in the fine art prints and in the book arts collection, and came up with one lithograph by Charles Shannon. It is signed in the lower right corner: 'Charles Shannon R16', referring to Ricketts's catalogue of the lithographs of Shannon, in which 'White Nights' (1893) is listed as number 16.


Charles Shannon's lithograph 'White Nights' on a table in the Print and Picture Collection, Free Library of Philadelphia, 18 July 2013
A few minutes later I had the lithograph in front of me on one of the large tables. It is printed in an edition of 50 on Van Gelder paper (the lithograph was also published in The Dial, number 3, 1893, and for these copies an unwatermarked cream laid paper was used). The overall condition of this subtle lithograph with a late preraphaelesque and almost surrealist scene was not brilliant, the paper was browned at the edges. However, the print had a surprise in store for me.


Charles Shannon, 'White Nights' (lithograph, 1893) [Print and Picture Collection, Free Library of Philadelphia]
Ricketts describes the image as follows: 'Two girls in long shifts stand to the left of the picture. The one who is washing her hands turns to kiss the other who holds a candlestick. Their companion is preparing a low narrow bed.'

Turning over the leaf I saw a sketch in pencil of a naked male figure wearing a helmet, perhaps a representation of Hermes. The helmet, or possibly, a hat, is reminiscent of other figures in Shannon's lithographs, such as the shepherd in 'The Shepherd in the Mist' (1892) and a group of nude children in 'The Ruffled Sea' (1893).


Sketch in pencil on the verso of Charles Shannon, 'White Nights' (lithograph, 1893) [Print and Picture Collection, Free Library of Philadelphia]
The young artist that Shannon was at the time would of course never waste a good piece of paper, and why not print a lithograph on the verso of an unfinished sketch? The signature, and certainly the reference to R16, will have been added later (Ricketts's bibliography was published in 1902). This might have been a proof of the lithograph.

Works by Charles Ricketts were found in other Philadelphia collections.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

103. Transporting Ideals of Typography

On Thursday 18 July the annual conference of the Society for the History of Authorship, Reading and Publishing (SHARP) will be opened at the University of Philadelphia. 

Friday morning the actual conference starts with a great variety of papers. One of the early sessions is titled 'Typographic Travels'. There are three presentations by Michael Knies (University of Scranton), Nicholas Kendall Morris (The State University of New York-Buffalo) and me.

My talk is called 'Transporting Ideals of Typography: The Case of The Ideal Book'. After the first edition of T.J. Cobden-Sanderson's The Ideal Book had been published in 1901 (dated 1900), a long row of new editions was published, especially in the United States. There were in fact more reprints of this text than of William Morris's lecture with the same title. I will be looking at the way the intentions and design of the manifesto were changed after they crossed the Atlantic, and how this effected the status of the text.

Extracts from the Book Beautiful, with an initial by F.W. Goudy (Village Press, 1907)

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

102. A Vale Press errata slip

Although Vale Press books occasionally show editorial mistakes, spelling errors and misprints, only once was an errata leaf printed. Charles Ricketts and Lucien Pissarro cooperated on De la typographie et de l'harmonie de la page imprimée. William Morris et son influence sur les arts et métiers (1898), and an errata slip was inserted on publication. Two mistakes were brought to the attention of the reader:

P. 12, line 4. For "sous" read "sans"
P. 26, line 13. For "Aux tons" read "Au lieu"

Some copies have lost their errata slips, such as the Bodleian Library copies (17006 e. 87 and Walpole e 602). In other copies the slip has been retained, but inserted in different places, such as after d4v or after 3.


Errata slip in a copy of Charles Ricketts and Lucien Pissarro, De la typographie et de l'harmonie de la page imprimée. William Morris et son influence sur les arts et métiers (1898)
In some copies the owner has corrected the errors in the text. Such is the case with a copy that features the bookplate of James Curle of Priorwood, Melrose, Roxburghshire in Scotland. He settled in the family home on his marriage in 1904, and died there in 1944. The bookplate was designed for him by David Young Cameron in 1911. This copy was sold by Blackwell Books in Oxford in 1987.


Correction on page 12 in a copy of Charles Ricketts and Lucien Pissarro, De la typographie et de l'harmonie de la page imprimée. William Morris et son influence sur les arts et métiers (1898)

On page 12 and page 26 the errors have neatly been corrected in pencil. No other pencil notes or marginalia occur in the pages of this private press book. It suggests that one of the owners wanted to be sure that, whenever he opened the book, he would read the correct text in French. Usually, collectors of private press books have been suspected of looking at rather than reading books, but this kind of user mark would be an argument for the opposite: the collector wanted a perfect text in a well produced edition, even if he had to scribble some of the words himself, which, obviously, was not considered a sacrilege.


Correction on page 26 in a copy of Charles Ricketts and Lucien Pissarro, De la typographie et de l'harmonie de la page imprimée. William Morris et son influence sur les arts et métiers (1898)

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

101. The Wise and Foolish Virgins

Christie's upcoming sale no. 1128, 'Victorian & British Impressionist Art', is scheduled for Thursday 11 July 2013 at 8 King Street, London. Included in this sale is a painting by Charles Ricketts, 'The Wise and Foolish Virgins' (1914). 

The oil painting is signed with Ricketts's monogram in the lower left, and it is offered in its original frame (87.7 x 118 cm). The painting was exhibited at the Grosvenor Gallery in 1914, and on 25 April Ricketts wrote in his diary that he had received news of its sale: 'I feel quite elated'. The painting was bought by Lady Cowdray. Apparently, she was discussing its acquisition when representatives of the Chantrey Bequest arrived, 'and fearing the picture might be purchased by them she bought it on the spot'. Had she not bought the picture, it would perhaps have ended up in Tate Britain. Ricketts was enchanted by Lady Cowdray's  impulsivity. Lady Cowdray was born Annie Cass. In 1881 she married the first Viscount Cowdray, and as a result she was styled as Baroness Cowdray in 1910. Lord Cowdray died in 1927; Annie Lady Cowdray's death was announced in April 1932. Further provenance of the painting is given as: 'Anonymous sale; Sotheby's, London, 20 March 1968, lot 105.' 

Charles Ricketts, 'The Wise and Foolish Virgins' (1914)
The painting (lot 50) is sold on behalf of the Eric Holder Will Trust. Holder, who died in 2007 (the introduction to the catalogue includes some personal recollections of him) was one of the founders of Abbott and Holder, picture and print dealers in London. However, the paintings that are now sold by Christie's are not from the firm's stock, but were part of his personal collection. The selection also contains works by Edward Burne-Jones and Simeon Solomon. 

The estimate for 'The Wise and Foolish Virgins', a subject that was treated often by both Ricketts and Shannon, is £30,000 – £50,000 (or $47,010 - $78,350).

Note (14 July 2013): the painting remained unsold at auction.
Second note (27 October 2013): Christie's website mentions a sale price of £25,000.