The delights of paste paper

My most recent book is a full binding in dark olive-coloured bookcloth, with a small panel insert, which contains an abstract piece of 'artwork' (and I use the term loosely) - the results of my experiments with paste paper.

As I'm sure those of you familiar with bookbinding will be aware, paste papers are created by mixing bookbinding paste, consisting of flour and water, with paint.  The resulting mix can then be manipulated on paper in any number of ways, using brushes, combs, fingers or stamps to create distinctive abstract patterns with an almost three dimensional quality to them.

Predominantly used on endpapers and on book covers, paste papers are one of the earliest methods used to decorate paper.  In the course of my research on producing paste papers, I came across some truly beautiful examples on the web, which demonstrate just how much of an art form it can be in the right hands.  One of my favourite discoveries was the work of Pattie Palmer Baker, whose calligraphy and collage work uses paste papers to stunning effect, creating a luminous, almost stained glass effect.  Other great examples of paste paper can be found on Flickr - I particularly like the work of Veronica Phillips and Zebra Crossing Picture Factory.

With such wonderful examples, I was truly inspired to create my own "masterpiece", and there are a number of excellent online tutorials to choose from.  I'd recommend Lili's Bookbinding Blog and Bookbinding Etsy Street Team ones, but there are plenty out there, and I haven't even begun to investigate what's on YouTube relating to the subject.

My own version was a yellow and blue paint combination, which I transformed into an abstract pattern by means of a paintbrush, fingers and a small stick.  My final experimental touch was to add a touch of gold embossing powder, which I then blasted with the heating gun, which gave the finished piece just the right amount of 'bling'.  Shying away from using my experiment to cover the whole of the book cover, I cut a section out of the finished design, and set it into a recessed panel on the right hand side of the front cover.

Bookbinding woes

I love the process of bookbinding – I find enjoyment in every one of the many individual processes which contribute to making a book.  But there are times when I find it the most frustrating of crafts, in particular when things don’t go according to plan, or as happened recently, when I reached the ‘unveiling’ stage of the bookbinding process (ie. Taking the finished product out of the nipping press), only to find a blemish on the front of the book which refused to budge. 

My most recent creation was a A6 sized blank notebook, the creation of which had involved, as always, tearing the pages by hand, trimming the book block, then hand-sewing the notebook, carefully rounding the spine, adding headbands, hand-embroidering the cover of the book with a heart, and sequins (which I admittedly forgot about when ironing and attaching a tissue paper backing, which gave them a shall we say a “distinctive” appearance), carefully casing in the book, placing in the book press, leaving overnight, and then...discovering the mysterious blemish which had just rendered the whole process a waste of time!

My mind is furiously thinking of ways to disguise the offending blemish, without making it worse.  I’ve got some ideas – watch this space.

It’s just one of those things, but it niggles.  It’s not the first time it’s happened, and I’m sure it won’t be the last!

Book Press

Christmas came early for me last week when I took ownership of my nipping press, thanks to my beloved husband, who bid for it on eBay.  A combined Christmas and birthday present from my other half, these things don't come cheap, even second hand.  We travelled to Congleton (nice place), and collected the press, which my hubby struggled to place in the boot of the car, not realising how heavy these things are.  Struggling to catch his breath, we drove back to Manchester, the car noticeably heavier.  Then came the fun part of trying to get the damn thing into the house.  We struggled, but together, somehow, we got the nipping press into the living room, amidst much huffing and puffing, and giggling.  And there it remains, tucked away in a corner of the living room (God forbid if anyone should stub their toe on it!!).  Unfortunately, it's doubtful that it will move from its resting place, as hubby is afraid it will go straight through the floor if moved to the conservatory, where I do most of my bookbinding.  But I think you'll agree, it's a real beauty.

18th century inspiration

I've always loved the various styles of the 18th century.  And it's lovely to see so many of my fellow Etsy sellers who share this appreciation.  My latest journal was inspired by the decadence of the 18th century, with this wonderful paper-backed fabric which evokes the feeling of 18th century dress fabric.  It goes perfectly with the dark green book cloth, which I've used on the spine and the corners of the book.

The finishing touch to the book is a cabochon, in a bronze, antique-effect setting.  Inserted into this is an image, based on a painting by Fragonard ('The Love Letter'), which depicts a lady in full magnificent 18th century attire, glancing furtively over her shoulder as she reads a love letter.  It's my first attempt at cabochons - quite pleased with the results, but as is often the case, next time I'll do things differently.  Any hardened cabochon-users out there?  Please do let me know if you have any advice you'd be happy to share.
The matching slipcase is covered in the dark green book cloth used on the spine and corners of the book, whilst internally, the slipcase is lined with green and gold patterned paper.
And so there is my personal homage to 18th century style.  New designs will be posted soon, including Autumn and Halloween-inspired books.  Watch this space!