Читать книгу On the Processes for the Production of Ex Libris (Book-Plates) - John Vinycomb - Страница 5
ОглавлениеIntroductory.
The production of book-plates, by whatever means, is but a side branch of the Art by which pictorial and decorative illustrations of every kind are executed, and copies multiplied by some of the ordinary processes of printing. Without, at this stage, going minutely into the history of pictorial illustration and printing, it may be briefly stated that in times past, the only available modes of reproduction were either by engraved wood blocks with the lines in relief to print with letterpress, or by engraved copper-plates having the lines cut into the polished surface of the metal and printed by the copper-plate press (the modus operandi in each method will be explained later on).
The processes for the production of Ex Libris—as it is now the fashion to term these dainty little works of art we so delight to collect and preserve—are to-day so numerous and so varied in their style and character of work as to be wholly dissimilar, yet in very many instances we find the results to be so nearly alike that only a practical expert can, with any degree of certainty, state how and by what means they have been executed. It is not therefore surprising that the collector—that picker-up of unconsidered trifles—however deeply versed he may be in the literature of the subject, for want of some technical knowledge should sometimes be mystified and unable to declare how a particular specimen has been produced. In the older examples there is little or no difficulty in distinguishing the difference between a woodcut and a print from a copper-plate; to one or the other of these two methods it must of necessity belong. The advance of modern science has, however, changed all that, and we may now possess a charming book-plate, which is neither engraved on wood nor on copper, and yet may pass for either the one or the other, or have characteristics entirely its own.
Some account of these two older methods and their later developments, as well as a sketch of some of the modern processes arising out of the invention of lithography and photography, will be of interest to collectors of Ex Libris; particularly the process blocks so much in vogue at the present time for high-class book illustrations, magazines, the illustrated weeklies, etc., by means of which the artist’s drawing, through a happy union of these later arts and chemical science, may be translated into a printing surface of metal or other material for giving off impressions by the type press, the copper-plate press, by lithography, or by one of the photo-mechanical processes, such as calotype, etc. By reference to representative examples, it is hoped to enable the collector to form a pretty accurate idea of the mode of execution of similar works.
Whatever merit of originality or of fancy the earlier examples may possess, it is interesting to observe how largely book-plates partake of the prevailing style or fashion of the times. By this test alone, collectors are led almost to a certainty to fix an approximate date when they were designed and engraved. Again, how clearly the character of the artist appears upon the face of each example, whether he was a “base mechanick” at his trade, or a true artist, who lent his thought and skilful hand to embellish the library of his friend or client. The artist himself, in old times, generally a versatile many-sided man, adapted himself to his work and wrought out his ideas con amore in whatever direction he might be called upon, whether it was to paint some great picture, to draw and perhaps engrave on wood or copper some of his immortal conceptions, or it may be only a simple book-plate for his friend and patron. Such a man was Albrecht Dürer. A book-plate by him, cut on wood, for his friend, Bilibaldi Pirckheimer, forms the frontispiece to the Hon. Leicester Warren’s book on “The Study of Book-plates.” Men like Michael Angelo, who could vary his occupation to every phase of Art, now as an architect, conceiving and carrying out the erection of the great Church of St. Peter’s at Rome, painting the grandest and most sublime pictures, and in sculpture without a rival, but who could also bring his lofty mind to the consideration of works of less importance. To him, to Hans Holbein, and others of highest rank as artists, we are indebted for the immense advancement of the fine arts at this period, which, starting with the Renaissance of Literature and Art in the 15th and 16th centuries, gradually dispersed the darkness of the middle ages. Drawing and engraving on wood were brought to a high degree of perfection, and a race of artists was educated, who devoted themselves exclusively to illustrating books which the recently invented art of printing had called into requisition.
Wood engraving, as an adjunct to printed books, was the earliest form in which good art became popularised: book illustration by engraved copper-plates was a later development, though the art was not unknown: at a later period, copper-plate illustrations almost entirely superseded wood for the purpose.
One who has carefully studied the illustrations in early-printed books—from printer’s mark on title-page to colophon—cannot fail to be struck with the manly and vigorous style of drawing in the cuts, shewing a real grasp of the subject and mastery of detail, and while we may be amused at the quaint conceits, and somewhat crude lines, we cannot but be charmed with the natural simplicity of the drawing, though lacking almost entirely in local colour. In the infancy of the art of engraving on wood, it necessarily followed that there should be some want of refinement in the execution. The engraver on wood was born very young, and had to grope his way by tedious practice to acquire skill and knowledge for his work. The artist, on the contrary, like Minerva, came into being fully equipped, or, to be literal, he already existed; with mature experience he adapted his skill to the requirements of the new art, the first and most important being that, as the tools of the engraver and the wood he used were unfitted for small details, the lines to be drawn by the artist on the wood must necessarily be few and well chosen.
The Brandenburg, or Buxheim plate, circa 1480.
[The oldest Ex Libris actually connected with a printed book.
See Ex Libris Journal, Vol. II., p. 71.]
Fig. 4.—DEVICE COMMONLY ATTRIBUTED TO CAXTON.
Caxton’s Mark.
