Filed under: Book Conservation
Sent this note to a friend this afternoon:
Ah, go soak your . . .
. . . 1700 Russian map. Or at least the old piece of paper adhered to the back of it. With the hope that the relaxed adhesive will allow it to come up easily.
Thought I’d take a couple of pictures and show the process.
First, here’s the information I have on the map: “Muscovy in Europe.” English, ca. 1700 by John Senex. Size: 20.5 x 24″
At some point after the map was printed (probably in the 19th century from the looks of the paper) someone mounted a wide double ‘tape’ of paper at the center on the back. This was done to allow the map to be mounted into a book. But this paper was fairly stiff, and at odds with the weight of the map paper structure, and so had caused some cockling of the paper of the map. I recommended to the client that this paper tab be removed, and preliminary investigation indicated that the adhesive used was water soluble.
But I couldn’t just add water to the back of the map to get the old adhesive to relax. Because the front of the map was colored by hand using watercolor pigments. Getting the paper too wet would allow those pigments to migrate, blend, perhaps even wash away.
The solution was to use a poultice of wheatpaste, applied to a limited area of the ‘tape’. This would release moisture into the old ‘tape’ in a controlled fashion. So I applied the paste several times, testing between applications to see whether the old adhesive had yet relaxed. This first picture shows when the adhesive had started to relax, and I could lift off the old paper using a lifting knife:
The second picture shows that process somewhat further along:
The rest of the area where I applied the wheatpaste came up just fine, with a little careful attention. Tomorrow I’ll work on another 6″ section of the tape, repeating the process until I have all the old paper and adhesive removed. Then I’ll dry the map under some restraint to allow it to relax and flatten properly. Afterward, I’ll proceed with the rest of the treatment needed.
Addendum, 8/12: Profile of me in Vox.
Jim Downey
. . . the power of human stupidity.”
Gah. A bit of a rant.
Some people do not listen to a single word you say.
Last week one evening, as we were eating dinner, we got a call on our landline. I answered it.
It was a client, calling to see if her family bible was finished. Why was she calling me on my home phone, instead of at my business number? Well, she had lost my business card, see . . .
We chatted. I told her I had been waiting to hear back from her on whether she wanted the work we discussed done or not.
She insisted she had.
I knew she hadn’t.
See, she had left the book with me at the beginning of the summer – she was leaving to go on vacation, and the book actually belonged to her mom, from whom she would need approval to have the work done. (This woman was at least my age, likely older.) Furthermore, for new clients I always require a 50% deposit on work before I start on it. A deposit which I had not received. And that once I had a deposit, I would schedule the work to be done – but that usually takes 4 – 6 months before I can get to it.
So I knew she hadn’t given me the green light to proceed.
But I also knew that I was nearing the bottom of a mild depressive cycle, with minimal tolerance for people. With that self-awareness, I figured that telling her she could come by and pick up her damned book and shove it up her butt was probably not the best thing. I asked her to give me a week to get the work done, and that I would call her.
This afternoon early I finished the work on the book. I called the client, explained that I was finishing up the work, and that the book would be dry from the final procedure and ready to pick up anytime this evening or the rest of the week, at her convenience. I asked her to let me know when she was coming by, so that I could make sure to be here (not running errands or something.) All of this is standard for me, and the way I have conducted business for 6 years.
Well, guess who just showed up a few minutes ago. Right. No, she didn’t call first. Of course not. I’m reasonably sure had I asked her, she would have told me that I said she should come right over and get the book. Because she didn’t listen to what I told her, at all.
Gah.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Bipolar, Book Conservation, Depression, Failure, Gardening, Health, Press, Publishing
I mentioned last week that I was somewhere in the downswing of my bipolar cycle. It’s sometimes hard to explain what that means. For those who haven’t ever experienced a true depression, here’s perhaps an insight into what it is like.
This morning I got a lot done. Errands ran, exercise in, seeing to a lot of annoying administrivia for my (soon-to-be-over) position as president of our Neighborhood Association. Then this afternoon a nice young woman reporter came by for a long interview for Vox Magazine – a profile piece they wanted to do about me as a book conservator. She was well prepared for the subject, asked a lot of solid questions, and gave me plenty of opportunity to brag on my profession. Then we got into some other personal things about me, and by the time she left I knew that she was quite impressed with all I have done, all that I have accomplished, and the successes which are currently in process.
She left, I got some conservation work done. Then I went out to the garden and harvested the first couple of ‘Lemon Boy’ tomatoes and green bell peppers – which I just chopped up and added to a nice tortellini salad waiting for dinner.
Sound good? Well, yeah, it should.
Know what I was thinking? That I had waited far too long to take care of the administrative tasks. About the client who called me during dinner last night to check on a conservation project which I didn’t even remember having been told to proceed on, and how I needed to scramble to get that done. And that the tomatoes and peppers are late, and an indication that this year’s harvest from the garden was going to be waaaaaaaaaaaaay down – perhaps only a quarter of what it usually is, and that was clearly due to some kind of ineptitude on my part.
This is not a major depression. I can function just fine. I am able to motivate myself to get things done. I can recognize my accomplishments.
But I take little joy or pride in anything I’m doing. I feel like I am constantly trying to paper over the cracks in my world, to hide the screw-ups I make lest someone figure out just how incompetent I am.
Don’t misunderstand this as a whine or a plea for “help”. I’ll be fine – I have been through this more than enough times to know the path out of the valley. I just thought I would share a little perspective on what it is like to be where I am.
Jim Downey
This is why I like to teach now and again. Because my students invariably school me.
This has been a great group of students: three high school students (one who just graduated) and a non-traditional (mid-20s, returning to school after solid work experience) college student who is assisting me in exchange for taking the class. All artists. All very smart, very talented in using their hands. They ask intelligent questions, are perfectly happy to redo small problems so that they correct their mistakes, and quickly grasp why we do the things we do. They have been excellent at following my instruction, understanding the models we have constructed, and creating some very nice books – with the result that we’ve gotten through more book structures than I ever have in such a class previously.
So, this morning, after finishing the last two examples I wanted them to do, I set forth the design criteria for them for their final independent books. We had an hour of class time, and I fully expected them to be able to think through the designs they wanted to construct, understand the structural issues which would be presented in trying to accomplish those designs, and tell me what they needed in terms of materials to translate those designs into completed books. Oh, sure, I expected that there would be problems that we would need to work through, but that was part of the whole lesson.
It was a debacle. A complete and total fiasco.
And this was the lesson for *me*: no matter how bright they are, no matter how good they are with the mechanical skills, no matter what their ability to understand design motif and execution . . . they just do not have the skills necessary to design, project, compensate, and complete a project given such a level of freedom (well, except for the assistant – he did exactly as I expected). I might as well have asked them to jump up on the roof of the art building.
Let me explain. People that age have many things. A fully-developed prefrontal cortex isn’t one of them. That usually doesn’t happen until the early 20s in most people, according to the best research available. They do not have the ability to completely understand all of their decisions and project their likely outcomes into the future (which explains a lot of late-teenage behavior.)
I hadn’t exactly forgotten this – I had been lured by their other skills into thinking that they were exempt. That’s akin to thinking that a 12 year old would understand what it was to be a parent because they were on the verge of puberty a little earlier than their peers.
So, once this eventually sunk into my own thick skull, I changed the plans for the class. I told them that tomorrow we’d go through and reconsider our initial designs, then construct a model out of practice materials which would allow us to work through any problems.
Sheesh – the things that it takes to teach me a lesson. Sometimes you’d think I was the one with the underdeveloped prefrontal cortex.
Jim Downey
Thought I would share a couple more of these from the project mentioned yesterday.
Above both this map: “Ingermanlandia seu Ingria.” [Map of St, Petersburg seen from the Gulf of Finland dedicated to Peter the Great.] Latin, 1734. Size: 22 x 19″
From this map: “Moscoviae Pars Australis,” Latin, ca. 1646 by Isaac Massa. Size 21” x 17”
And this map: “Taurica Chersones vs. Nostra aetate Przecopsca et Gazar dicitur.” Latin, ca. 1590 by Gerardo Mercator. Size: 22 x 18″
Fun, eh?
Jim Downey
So, this afternoon prepped materials for my next class tomorrow morning – they’re going to do a longstitch binding – then started assessing the maps I picked up on Friday for Special Collections. I need to go through and do an itemized estimate for them, and the first step is just to look the items over carefully, see exactly what conservation treatment they need. And I thought that I would post a couple pictures from one of the maps:
“Les Etats du Czar ou Empereur des Russes en Europe et en Asie –Avec les Routes q’uon tient Ordinairment de Moscow a Pekim. “ French, 1772 by Nicolas de Fer (1646-1720). Size : 25.5 x 17
This is actually the youngest of the maps I picked up – the others date back to 1590 – but it will need a lot of work. You can’t see it from these photos, but it was mounted to that acidic matboard using good ol’ Scotch tape. All around the edges of the map.
Sheesh.
People, if you have a nice map, or any other piece of art, DO NOT mount or repair the damned thing with Scotch tape.
Maybe some more pictures this week as I go through and get started on the rest of the maps.
Jim Downey
I agreed some weeks back to help out a friend and teach a book-arts class at one of the local colleges for a two week ‘camp’ thing they do to interest high school students in the school. The pay is less than I’d bill for one solid day’s work, but I do enjoy teaching my craft now and again – you get a fresh perspective from young students that is hard to find anywhere else.
Anyway, this morning I had to go over to the campus HR department and fill out all the necessary paperwork to be allowed this honor. Most of it was the usual junk you expect from any employer – wage and tax forms, et cetera. They also had a confidentiality agreement I had to complete – fine, as I doubt I will have any information in my hands at any time that I *could* disclose. And then I came to the form allowing a background check.
Whoa.
I know that it is routine. And I know that it is required, to protect the school from employing some kind of child molester. But had I not already given my friend a commitment to teach the class, I would have just left the paperwork on the desk and walked out.
No, I have nothing in my background which raises the slightest concern. I couldn’t have passed a CCW permit background check if I did. I just really resent having my privacy violated. Because the background check could include financial and credit reports in addition to criminal records and legal judgments – it was worded broadly enough to allow the school to do everything short of giving me a colonoscopy, if they wanted.
It’s funny. My small-“l” libertarianism seldom shows up in my day to day life. But when it comes to my privacy, I really don’t like having to hand over the keys to my life to someone else. I’ve got nothing to hide, but I hate having to let others root around and see that for themselves.
Damn, I hate starting a holiday weekend devoted to liberty with this taste in my mouth. Maybe that’s why it’s bugged me so much.
Jim Downey
A long time back I wrote about getting my big safe, to keep the rare books secure, as well as my guns. Which has led to some interesting situations with clients, who somehow don’t expect a mild-mannered bookbinder to also own a decent selection of firearms.
Well, I keep the safe open during the day when I am home (which is usually). This helps to prevent humidity build up – a problem for both the books and the guns. Typically, closing the safe up is the last thing I do at night before going up to bed.
Just like last night. I shut off the computer, turned off the desk lamp, went over and pushed the big door closed and spun the lock. Upstairs to bed.
Wandered down this morning, and our old lady yellow cat was waiting for her breakfast. She’s always waiting when I come down. The younger grey wasn’t around – hadn’t been up on the bed last night, either. She does this sometimes, whether because of just mood or because she decided to stay outside overnight.
I fed the yellow cat, went to the back door and whistled for the other one. Yes, our cats come when called. Particularly when it is time for breakfast.
But there was no sign of her. Oh well, it happens – she must’ve been off adventuring somewhere in our very large yard.
So I went into my usual morning routine. Put away the dishes from the night before as water heated for coffee. Once the coffee was ready, and there was once again hope in the world, went in to my office and fired up the computer. As it booted up, I went over and opened the safe.
Guess who came darting out?
Yeah, the small grey cat. She evidently had decided to investigate the bottom shelf on one side of the safe, which is empty. This is unusual, since she has long since determined that the safe isn’t very interesting.
Anyway, no harm done. She went right to the litter box, then wanted breakfast.
But I bet she stays clear of the safe from now on.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Book Conservation
A few weeks ago I mentioned attending the MU Library Society dinner, and being honored there. Well, yesterday I got a nice note from the Director of Library that contained this photo:
I thought it was a nice pic of my Good Lady Wife, who is sitting there smiling next to the geek standing there, and wanted to share it.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 