Grace Under Pressure

"Grace", original size approximately  8" X 18"

What is it about a looming deadline that brings clarity to our thinking?  This is a piece I had been mulling over for at least a year, occasionally pulling out the quotation and fooling around with it.  Then Linnea Lundquist & Ward Dunham announced they would be closing their wonderful studio, Atelier Gargoyle, on December 4th with an all-day party and show of their students' work.  This was the incentive I needed, and I knew it had to get done and delivered this week since I would be out of town most of the two weeks before the celebration.

It truly has been a gift to have access to Ward & Linnea's wisdom and expertise these last four-and-a-half years at their monthly Saturday "Black Sabbath" classes in San Francisco where we explored Textura, Batarde, Uncial, Johnstonian Italic (aka Pointed Gothic)--in short, all things Blackletter.  Very early on, after Ward made some jokingly snide remarks about Pointed Pen People, I sent them a New Years card I had designed in Spencerian, knowing that I was "outing" myself as a PPP.  They both responded with one of their famous postcards, enthusiastically encouraging me to work with the two styles "for ultimate contrast", and encouraging me to "look to your Bickham".  "Be the one," wrote Linnea, "to combine the two with panache."  I've never forgotten that, and have always been grateful.

At every Black Sabbath class we painstakingly ground our black Chinese stick ink, and occasionally used Chinese vermillion for electric red accents.  With this piece I wanted to stay faithful to that.  I had originally planned to illuminate the "G" but in looking at my roughs, Linnea encouraged me to keep it simpler.  The diamonds on the G and B are gilded.

When Sheila Waters was in town earlier in the year, she had shown us her latest work on Pergamanata paper, singing its praises and vellum-like qualities, in particular the easy correctability.  I decided then and there it must be the paper for me, and although it took some getting used to, I am now a devoted fan.  It is not at all as mottled looking as in the scan above, and it seemed able to take endless scraping and erasures without complaint.

As I said, there was a deadline involved and with understanding friends and a supportive spouse, I holed up in the studio for days, finally coming through with a piece I could live with, then cutting mats for it and popping it into a frame for the show.  I'm looking forward to seeing my classmates' work and getting together one last time;  we've all come a long way in 4+ years and there is some amazing and varied talent in the group.  It's been a great run and I'm very sad it's over.

Once Upon an Island

The work in progress...

It was an impulsive and fortuitous decision, clearly meant-to-be:  just a week ahead of time, I put in motion a plan to attend a workshop at the St Michael Institute of Sacred Art entitled "The Decorated Page", taught by the incomparable Harvest Crittenden, herself rather decorated as a Master Penman and Master Engrosser.  I had blocked out a week's vacation--the same week I had gone to the Spencerian Saga the last two years, but I had done a third West Coast Saga in April this year in Berkeley--and had not been able to come up with something that appealed to me to do.  Then I woke up one morning and the plan seemed to have fully formed itself in the night:  Enders Island, Mystic, Connecticut.

A few emails and phone calls were made, and before I knew it I was on a plane bound for Providence, armed with my left-handed nibs and some delicious anticipation.  Any picture I had in my mind was pale compared to the real thing:

Enders Island, Mystic CT

It was sheer magic from the moment we arrived.

This was the view from my room, the first morning at sunrise:

Autumn was in its full glory and I gratefully got my "fix" of fall color.  This was taken on a walk in a nearby neighborhood.

Add to this some fantastic meals and a whole island of friendly people, and the stage was set for an incomparable experience.

The first two days were spent studying the work of local hero Angelo Rassu, (a mid-20th century engrosser whose amazing collection is housed on Enders and curated by Harvest--stay tuned for her forthcoming publication on him!); practicing Engrosser's Text (new to me, not to be confused with Engrosser's Script!) with a broad nib;  laying out our text designs; and finally, putting the lettering onto the page Harvest had prepared for us with the outline of the border design.

Next we learned to apply gold and palladium leaf.  This included a field trip to a nearby marsh to collect reeds to cut into tubes with which to moisten the dried Instacoll for receiving the leaf.

With the gilding beautifully in place, we then were extensively schooled in color theory--specifically Harvest's fabulous CMYK primary palette--and set about creating our colors, hues and shades.  I was drawn to the seasonal decorations in front of the main building (where our scriptorium was housed) which included this ornamental kale...

...and became, with much tutelage from Harvest, this palette of gouache.

Thus began the Painting of the Acanthus Leaves, a relaxing and pleasurable activity accompanied by Gregorian chant from the workshop upstairs, and/or conversation  (oh, and some SF Giants radio baseball, too, couldn't help myself!)  among the most simpatico group of women I have had the pleasure to be in a class with.

Some of us worked into the wee hours and all enjoyed every minute.  Here are some of the "raw" painted leaves:

...later shaded and outlined to make them "pop", along with some tooling on the gold.  The illuminated G includes a traditional white vine design.

It is difficult to express how enlightening and restorative those few short days were for me. The place, the people, the art.  In some ways it felt so personal and inward that it is daunting to attempt to put it into words.  I can't say enough about Harvest's teaching: she is thorough, original, imaginative, attentive and flexible---and it goes without saying that her artistry is magnificent inspiration.

I don't know if I'll ever finish this piece, or whether it would even be possible to know when it was finished.  But maybe that's the way to keep the essence of the experience alive for myself.  It's a wonderful reminder that in this era of instant gratification and 24/7 access, one can delve deeply into something for an entire week and know that it has only just begun.