What’s Your Job? Interview with Book Conservator Christina Amato

Posted on December 15, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Christina Amato, Book and Paper Conservator, with Emily Moyer, Collections Care Assistant

The New York Academy of Medicine Library is well known for its world-class collections and serves patrons from all over the world. We strive to make our collections as visible and accessible as possible, and a lot of work goes on behind the scenes towards this end. The Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory fulfills one component of this equation, attending to the physical well-being of collections materials.

Christina Amato, cleaning old glue from the spine of a book.

The Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory was created in 1982, and occupies a bright, well-equipped space overlooking Central Park. Currently, one full-time conservator and two part-time collections care assistants work to preserve the collection of over 550,000 volumes. Christina Amato has worked as a book conservator here for approximately three years. Recently, she sat down with Collections Care Assistant Emily Moyer to discuss her work.

EM: How did you get into the field of conservation?

CA: People come to the field from a variety of backgrounds, in part because conservation crosses many disciplines, including science, art history, and studio art. I come from an art background, having received my BA in studio art from Bard College. It was really through an interest in materials (specifically paper, leather, and vellum) that I became involved in bookbinding. I received a diploma in bookbinding from the North Bennet Street School in Boston, which led me to many wonderful internships in book conservation.

There are actually many different possible paths to a career in conservation. The American Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works (AIC) has compiled a guide to education and training in conservation.

E.M.: Why is conservation important?

Many books that come up to the conservation lab are too fragile to be handled by readers; our work makes these materials accessible. This is important not just for readers that come and use our collection in person, but also for preparation for digitization projects and exhibitions. Much of our work focuses on preventative care, which ensures that materials remain in good condition for current and future use. This can include rehousing (creating enclosures for materials), regulating and monitoring environmental conditions, and disaster planning and response.

E.M.: What are you working on now?

Currently I am working on a copy of The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, by Eucharius Rösslin, London, 1545. The book arrived in the lab broken in half:

The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, before treatment.

It had been subjected to several unsuccessful attempts to repair the damage over the years. Several layers of Japanese paper had been glued over the spine, and only a few small fragments of the original spine piece were left.

The byrth of mankynde, otherwise named The womans booke, before treatment.

After disbanding, and mending paper tears and fragile edges throughout the text block, I carefully documented the original sewing pattern, so that I could resew it in the same way.

Next, I dyed leather to match the original binding, which I will use to recreate the spine. After it is complete, the book will receive a new, custom enclosure, and will be ready to be used again.

Leather dying in progress.

E.M.: What are some interesting things you’ve worked on at the Academy?

A favorite book that I worked on was a copy of The Physiology of Digestion by William Beaumont, published in Vermont in 1847. Very shortly after I finished working on it, I listened to an archived episode of the Radiolab program called Guts. Our historical collections librarian, Arlene Shaner, spoke of a small, purple, cloth-bound book about digestion; it only very slowly dawned on me that it was the very same book that was on my bench.

Before and after, The Physiology of Digestion, Beaumont, William. Vermont, 1847.

Before and after, William Beaumont’s The Physiology of Digestion, Vermont, 1847. Click to enlarge.

Another favorite was a small volume entitled Geburtshulfliche Taschen-Phantome by Koichi Shibata, published in Munchen in 1892. We were so charmed by this little obstetrics text that we recreated the movable paper baby for a public workshop.

Koichi Shibata, Geburtshulfliche Taschen-Phantome, after treatment (left). The moveable paper baby (right).

E.M.: Why do you like working in conservation?

Working in conservation can be very satisfying; the outcome of our work is unusually tangible. Working to preserve materials for (and from!) future readers can be creatively challenging, and requires flexible thinking. I like that it is a profession that combines working with your hands with an intellectual component. And of course, it is very rewarding to take a book that is too fragile to be handled and render it usable again.

Back to School! Conservation of the Academy’s 19th- and 20th-Century Medical Student Notebooks

Posted on September 10, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Erin Albritton, Head of Conservation and Arlene Shaner, Historical Collections Reference Librarian

A small sample of student notebooks from the library’s collection.

The New York Academy of Medicine Library’s manuscript collections feature a number of notebooks kept by medical students while they studied to become physicians. These notebooks, which contain both class notes and clinical reports created by students as they followed professors on rounds, are fascinating repositories of information that enrich our understanding of medical education during the 19^th and early 20^th centuries.

Title page from Marcus Lorenzo Taft’s Notes of a Course of Lectures on Surgery by Valentine Mott, M.D., 1842–44.

In January, the New York State Discretionary Grant Program for the Conservation and Preservation of Library Research Materials awarded the Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory funding to carry out conservation treatment on 42 notebooks from the collection, all of which were created by students studying at medical colleges in New York City between 1827 and 1909. Contract conservator Jayne Hillam completed the conservation portion of the grant project in June. Following cataloging updates, the materials will soon be available for use.

An abundance of published resources can be used to research the world of 19^th– and early 20^th-century medical education. Circulars, annual reports, and catalogs provide scholars with detailed information about admission requirements, programs of instruction, textbooks, schedules of clinical demonstrations, faculty and student rosters, and even the addresses of boarding houses where students lived. In addition, printed copies of inaugural and valedictory addresses delivered by faculty members to student audiences offer a record of what physicians and faculty members thought medical students should know about the world of medical practice. Missing from these printed sources, however, is an intimate sense of how students actually learned to be physicians—i.e., what they studied in their classes and on clinical rounds; how they recorded that information for their own personal use; and how their understanding of the subject matter may have changed over time.

The 42 student notebooks conserved under this grant help bridge that gap, providing a window into the evolution not only of medical education, but of American higher education in general, and offering detailed evidence of the curriculum taught to medical students as medicine evolved through the 19^th century. These notebooks also tell us a great deal about the students themselves, showing how they mastered the subjects they studied, what they learned from observing clinical demonstrations, and what professorial advice they deemed worth transcribing.

Harold Mixsell’s notes and charming illustration about caffeine, from the pharmacology lectures delivered by Dr. Walter Bastedo at New York’s College of Physicians and Surgeons, 1907.

A reminder about the proper method of examining patients with scarlet fever, from Harold Mixsell’s notes from medical clinics in 1908.

In addition to their content, the notebooks in this collection (which include both ready-made blank books and more finely bound presentation pieces) are also a valuable source of information about binding structures. They were produced during a pivotal moment in American bookbinding history when the traditions of the hand binding period gave way to the Industrial Era. In this case, the physical objects provide researchers with a unique opportunity to explore how the mass production and availability of blank books in the 19^th century might have influenced classroom learning and the transmission of knowledge.

Three ready-made notebooks after conservation treatment.

While most of these manuscripts were, quite clearly, student working copies (hastily written and illustrated, and characterized by a parsimonious use of paper), several were created as prize notebooks—the result of a 19^th-century practice in which institutions and faculty members awarded cash prizes to students who demonstrated skill in note taking. As ideas about education evolved, the creation of prize notebooks came to be viewed more as a distraction than an enhancement to the learning process, and the competitions were eventually discontinued. That said, with their decorated bindings, artful title pages, expertly rendered calligraphy and hand-colored illustrations, the prize notebooks in the Academy’s collection are beautiful objects that amaze and delight any modern-day student note taker.

John Edwin Stillwell’s prize notebook of Dr. Fessenden Nott Otis’s lectures on venereal diseases, 1874–75.

Stillwell’s prize notebook recording the gynecological clinics of Dr. T. Gaillard Thomas, 1873–74.

While the majority of notebooks in the collection have fared well since their creation, the 42 manuscripts selected for this grant all required some type of conservation treatment, ranging from simple cleaning to advanced paper and binding repair. Thanks to the generous financial support of the New York State Library’s Division of Library Development, these repairs are now complete and the notebooks can once again be referenced safely without fear of damage.

Before and after conservation treatment of a student notebook containing notes on internal medicine, 1873–74.

What Lies Beneath: Semi-Limp Parchment Bindings in The Academy’s Rare Book Collection (Items of the Month)

Posted on April 22, 2015 by nyamhistorymed

By Erin Albritton, Head of Conservation, and Christina Amato, Book Conservator, Gladys Brooks Book & Paper Conservation Laboratory

In the summer of 2013, conservators in the Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Laboratory began investigating conservation treatment options for a 17^th-century Parisian imprint. As part of this process, we undertook an examination of a significant portion of The Academy’s early modern parchment volumes and became fascinated with a particular binding style—known as a semi-limp parchment binding—that has received very little attention in the published literature. For April’s item of the month, we offer a sneak peak at some of these bindings and the features that make them unique.¹

A group of semi-limp parchment bindings in The Academy’s rare book collection

Parchment² bindings can be grouped into three basic categories: limp, semi-limp, and stiff. As the name implies, limp bindings are supple structures characterized by the absence of boards beneath their simple covers. Stiff board bindings, on the other hand, live up to their name through the addition of two rigid pieces of board inserted at the front and back. Semi-limp bindings—the category on which we focus here—fall somewhere in between: supple, but due to the presence of flexible boards, not quite limp.³

The most common type of semi-limp binding represented in the The Academy’s collection has two flexible boards that “float,” unadhered, beneath its parchment cover (see picture below).

Floating boards within the detached parchment cover of a 17th-century Belgium binding. Tournai, 1668.

During our research, however, we were excited to discover a style of semi-limp parchment binding previously unknown to us—a structure distinguished by the fact that it has a single piece of thin moldable board (rather than two floating boards) inserted beneath its cover (see picture below). The board is wrapped around the whole textblock, the outer parchment cover is folded over it, and both are attached to the textblock at the head and tail via laced endband cores. For lack of any historical name, and to distinguish it from the floating boards binding mentioned above, we have called this structure a wrapped board binding.⁴

Wrapped board binding with inner paper board stiffener visible through damaged outer parchment cover. Lyon, 1641

As illustrated in the photographs below, the two styles outwardly appear very similar and can be almost impossible to tell apart without access to and close examination of the inner joints and spine.

Left: Floating boards binding, Paris, 1645. Right: Wrapped board binding, Paris, 1628.

To learn more about these structures, we undertook a two-part survey of The Academy’s rare book collection. Part one was a big-picture analysis, in which we examined approximately 20,000 volumes and collected basic information about every parchment binding we found; part two involved a detailed look at the semi-limp structures we identified during part one.

The results of our survey indicate that semi-limp bindings were much more popular in Europe during the early modern period than we suspected. Indeed, given the proportion of scholarly literature devoted to limp parchment bindings and their profile within the pantheon of historical binding structures, we were surprised to count nearly four times as many semi-limp bindings (of both the floating boards and wrapped board varieties) as limp bindings in our collection—with 194 and 48 respectively. Within our survey sample, the wrapped board structure was relatively uncommon—appearing on only 28 (or 14 percent) of all semi-limp bindings—and its use seems to have been limited to France in the late 16^th and early 17^th centuries.⁵

Title page from a Parisian wrapped board binding, 1639.

Almost all of the semi-limp parchment bindings we surveyed were simple structures—small in size and unornamented, featuring a number of structural shortcuts (including abbreviated sewing patterns on only two or three supports; simple endbands with minimal tie-downs; and plain endsheets of very basic construction) typical of retail (or, perhaps, less expensive bespoke) bindings of the time. While evidence indicates that these bindings were probably intended to be permanent,⁶ they were cheaper and easier to make (and, therefore, also likely less expensive to buy) than leather bindings. Hence, it appears that both the floating boards and wrapped board bindings were, in all probability, part of a larger strategy within the early modern book industry aimed at binding more books for a bigger audience quickly without going broke.

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Our initial findings indicate that, like their limp parchment cousins, semi-limp bindings played a significant role in bookbinding history. This role has been both underappreciated and underexamined in the scholarly literature, however, and much research remains to be done. Consequently, we encourage readers to take a look beneath the covers of the parchment bindings that line the shelves of their collections and start documenting what they see.⁷

Notes

1. For definitions of some of the bookbinding terms used in this post, see Roberts, Matt and Don Etherington. Bookbinding and the Conservation of Books: A Dictionary of Descriptive Terminology. Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1982 (accessible online at http://cool.conservation-us.org/don//) or Carter, John and Nicholas Barker. ABC for Book Collectors. 8th ed., New Castle, DE: Oak Knoll Press, 2004 (accessible online at https://www.ilab.org/eng/documentation/29-abc_for_book_collectors.html).

2. Parchment is any animal skin that has been limed, de-haired, dried under tension, and then scraped and thinned. Although definitive species identification is not possible without DNA analysis, most parchment-bound books are made from sheep, goat or calf skin.

3. From the early 16^th century on, binders began replacing traditional wooden boards with a variety of different types of cheaper paper ones. Most parchment bindings with boards were made using these.

4. Although much has been written about limp parchment bindings, we have found very little scholarly literature about their semi-limp cousins. The one notable exception is Nicholas Pickwoad’s 1994 study of the Ramey collection—a group of 359 volumes at the Morgan Library, printed mostly in France between 1485 and 1601—in which he identifies (for the first and, as far as we can tell, only time in an English-language resource) 46 examples of the wrapped board structure we describe here. See Pickwoad, Nicholas. “The Interpretation of Bookbinding Structure: An Examination of Sixteenth-Century Bindings in the Ramey Collection in the Pierpont Morgan Library.” The Library 6th s., XVII, no. 3 (September 1995): 209-249.

5. In The Academy’s collection, the wrapped board binding appears most frequently on French imprints published in Paris between 1620 and 1649. Although floating boards bindings were produced in a variety of different countries throughout the 16^th, 17^th and 18^th centuries, in The Academy’s collection they appear most often on Italian imprints published after 1640.

6. Unlike temporary bindings—which were made so that they could be removed and replaced with a more elaborate binding—these structures lack features (such as long sewing supports) that would have made rebinding easy, and are marked by others (such as trimmed and decorated textblock edges) that indicate permanence.

7. For those interested in learning more about this research project, a discussion of our survey results is anticipated to be published by The Legacy Press in 2016 as part of a collection of essays on the history of bookbinding titled Suave Mechanicals (Volume III).

The Bookplates of Medical Men (Item of the Month)

Posted on November 13, 2014 by nyamhistorymed

By Erin Albritton, Head of Conservation, Gladys Brooks Book & Paper Conservation Laboratory

Book owners have forever endeavored to find ways to identify volumes as their own. With the invention of the printing press, however, books became more plentiful and an owner’s need to identify his or her own copy even more pressing. The earliest examples of printed bookplates (also known as ex-libris) come from Germany and date to the 15^th century, just as printing began to take off in Europe. Over the following centuries, the use of bookplates became widespread throughout Europe and eventually followed colonists to America.¹

In the summer of 2014, conservators in the Gladys Brooks Book & Paper Conservation Laboratory began treating three scrapbooks containing 184 bookplates.² Frank Place, Jr., NYAM’s reference librarian from 1905 to 1945, collected them and donated the books to the library sometime in the mid-20^th century. In compiling his collection, Mr. Place mounted the bookplates onto recycled paper pamphlet covers (measuring approximately 5.25” x 8”) and stored them alphabetically in two-ring binders,³ which were actively damaging the plates’ fragile paper supports and making it difficult to use the collection.

Binder showing ring mechanism and resulting damage to paper supports.

Example of pamphlet cover Mr. Place reused as a support for his bookplates.

To remedy these issues and minimize the risk of future damage, conservators modified the binders while retaining as much of the original binding structure as possible, replacing the ring mechanisms with fixed posts and hinging the paper supports onto stubs.

Top: Volume 3, before treatment, in its original ring binder. Bottom: Volume 1, after treatment, in a modified post binding with hinged plates.

Before and after binder modification.

Because the original binder spine pieces were too big for the modified structures, conservators encapsulated the pieces in Mylar and affixed them to protective four-flap enclosures.

Mylar-spine wrappers with encapsulated original spine pieces.

Mr. Place’s charming collection in NYAM’s library offers a window into what some scholars have referred to as the “golden age of bookplate enthusiasm,”⁴ which spanned from the end of the 19^th century through the first decades of the 20^th century. During this time, societies for the collection and exchange of ex-libris sprang up across Europe and the United States. Collectors prized plates for their aesthetic value as miniature pieces of art and often acquired them, not for use in identifying their books, but for the sole purpose of organizing, exhibiting, and exchanging them with others. Many collectors limited their acquisitions to bookplates representing a particular theme and, here, it is no surprise that Mr. Place specialized in the plates of medical practitioners and institutions. Correspondence (included in the scrapbooks) between Mr. Place and other collectors (specifically H. M. Barlow, secretary at the Royal College of Physicians, and Dr. Henry de Forest, a prominent New York physician⁵) indicates that he was not only interested in growing NYAM’s collection but, in the spirit of the times, was also an active contributor to the collections of others.

While small by comparison to other collections, Mr. Place’s scrapbooks offer some wonderful examples of the broad ranging sizes and styles of bookplates—from modest ornamental name labels:

Ornamental name labels of (left) Samuel Smith Purple, MD and (right) Robert Latou Dickinson, MD.

to elaborately illustrated panels, depicting anything from coats of arms to the owner’s occupation and hobbies. Not surprisingly, in the case of medical bookplates, images such as Hippocrates, microscopes, and the caduceus, along with skeletons, skulls, and beakers tend to figure prominently.

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It is a pity we do not know whether, in addition to collecting, Mr. Place ever commissioned his own miniature work of art to grace the inside covers of his personal volumes. Thanks to a bookplate, however, we are forever reminded of his contribution of this delightful little collection to NYAM’s library.

Treatment of the third and final scrapbook is in process and the entire collection will be available for use in early 2015. In the meantime, a list of all 184 bookplates can be obtained by contacting history@nyam.org or calling 212-822-7313.

Notes

1. The oldest known American bookplate dates to 1679 and takes the form of a simple label indicating the owner’s name. Curtin, R. G. (1910). “The Book-Plates of Physicians, with Remarks on the Physician’s Leisure-Hour ‘Hobbies’.” Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott Co. (Reprinted from International Clinics, Vol. II, 20^th Series), p. 239.

2. Thanks to Saira Haqqi, 2014 Gladys Brooks Book Conservation Intern, for her work conserving volume 2 of this collection.

3. In an address to the Historical Section of the Philadelphia College of Physicians on November 22, 1907, physician and bookplate collector Roland G. Curtin advises collectors to hinge their plates onto paper cards (measuring 7.5” x 9.5”) and to keep the cards loose, thus enabling the inspection of the backside of plates as well as the display of single plates without endangering the entire collection. Ibid. 253. It seems likely that Mr. Place read Dr. Curtin’s address (a reprint, cited above, was accessioned into NYAM’s collection in 1910) and was endeavoring to follow this advice when arranging his own collection.

4. Pincott, A. “American Bookplates.” Rev. of American Bookplates by W.E. Butler. Print Quarterly, Vol. 18, No. 3 (Sept. 2001), p. 351. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41826267.

5. See blog post by Arlene Shaner, Reference Librarian for NYAM’s Historical Collections, discussing a bookplate and correspondence from Dr. Henry de Forest: https://nyamcenterforhistory.org/2013/03/06/biblioclasts-bibliosnitches-beware/.

Item of the month: Scrapbook of Doctor John T. Nagle, One Album, Three Perspectives

Posted on July 19, 2013 by nyamhistofmed

By Christina Amato, Book Conservator

Our item of the month is a scrapbook compiled by Dr. John Nagle from the years 1868-1900. Dr. Nagle was an employee of the New York City Bureau of Vital Statistics, and the album mostly consists of newspaper clippings concerning births and deaths, diseases, methods of disposing of bodies, etc. It is an interesting item on many different levels. When an item comes into the conservation lab, the first thing we naturally see is damage. The album’s spine had fallen off, many of the newspaper clippings inside were crumpled and broken, and the front cover had warped in a particularly exuberant fashion:

Foredge before treatment.

Most visitors to the lab who encounter the album, however, just see the charming artwork on the cover:

A student of book history might be more inclined to see it as a typical example of a publisher’s cloth binding. Starched bookcloth, which was invented in the 1820s, allowed for the mass production of embossed covers such as the one above. A heated brass die would be used to stamp the cover, and even as late as the 1870s, when Dr. Nagle started compiling his scrapbook, each detail of the die would have been hand carved.

A researcher might have a different take on this item altogether. Though mostly consisting of statistics, which are fascinating in their own right, there are several small clippings that provide intriguing clues into the nature of Dr. Nagle himself:

In addition to sunny afternoon promenades, Dr. Nagle was known to engage in daring, maritime rescues, and heated competition over the title of “handsomest man”:

Depending on who you ask, the most interesting thing about this album could be its physical structure, the details of the cover design, or the content. Regardless of where your interest may lie, conservation treatment has rendered the book accessible to all. If you are interested in seeing this item, contact us at (212) 822-7313 or history@nyam.org.

Scrapbook after conservation treatment.

For your viewing pleasure

Posted on May 17, 2013 by nyamhistofmed

This Wednesday’s 2013 New York Academy of Medicine Gala featured the following video on the Center for the History of Medicine and Public Health. If you would like to learn more about our work or visit us in person, please email history@nyam.org and library@nyam.org.

Preservation Week Quiz

Posted on April 25, 2013 by nyamhistofmed

By Christina Amato, Book Conservator

In recognition of Preservation Week, NYAM conservators have prepared a quiz. The following mystery objects are used in the NYAM Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation Lab. Prove your preservation moxie by choosing which description best matches each item.

Image 1:
a. Pest remediation instrument. The small nozzle can reach into the gutters of books, and capture crawling insects and larva via suction. They are whisked into the clear chamber, where they will peacefully expire in the oxygen deprived environment.

b. Nebulizer. The clear chamber is used to heat water, and the resulting steam can be directed very precisely with the small nozzle onto areas that require humidification (such as crumpled paper or vellum.) The chamber can also be filled with a dilute adhesive, which can be used to consolidate flaking media.

c. Airbrush. The clear chamber is filled with dilute paint, usually watercolor or acrylic, and is used to tone cloth or Japanese paper for repairing books. It is also frequently used with leather dye to tone calf or goatskin.

Image 2:

a. Sewing frame. Books are occasionally completely disbound and resewn in the lab. Cord, or linen “tape”, is pulled taut from the horizontal bar to the base, and books are sewn onto the cords.

b. Parchment stretching frame. Crumpled parchment is humidified, and attached to the frame using specialized clips. The horizontal bar is slowly raised until the parchment is taut, where it is left to dry.

c. Traction device. Long hours spent stooped over a bench can lead to a host of orthopedic insults. Conservators are wise to take a few minutes every day to “stretch out on the rack.”

Image 3:

a. Pamphlet binder. Pamphlets are passed between the jaws of this device, which affixes the pages together with stainless steel tackets. The jaws can be adjusted to accommodate pamphlets of varying thicknesses.

b. Tape dispenser. Specialized mending tape is applied to torn pages when fed through the jaws. Can also be used with duct tape.

c. Leather paring device. A two-sided razor blade is attached to the top jaw; pieces of leather are passed through the jaws, until the desired thickness is reached. It is often necessary to thin out leather quite a bit before using it to repair a book.

Image 4:

a. Pest Remediation Dome. Books that have been infected with insects can be placed inside the dome. Oxygen is gradually pumped out of the dome, gently suffocating any insects within.

b. Incubator. Conservators in the Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation lab are world renowned for their hand processed silk thread, which is used in a variety of conservation applications. Silk worms are lovingly and painstakingly raised in the dome from larva, until they are ready to be harvested.

c. Humidity dome and suction table. Paper or vellum that requires humidification, for flattening, for example, can be placed inside the dome, where the humidity is gradually increased until the desired level is reached. Beneath the dome is a suction table; it can be used to force solvents through a piece of paper, for stain reduction and other applications.

Image 5:

a. We don’t actually know. We saw it at Restoration Hardware, and thought it looked cool.

b. Book Press. This is used to apply pressure to books, after treatment, to prevent warping during drying. It can also be used to flatten single sheets of paper.

c. Book truck. Books are held in place underneath the platen; the truck can then be safely driven around the lab. The large wheel at the top is used for steering.

Answers:

1. b 2. a 3. c 4. c 5. b

Scoring:

5 out of 5: Preservation Superstar! Congratulations! You are tapped into the pulse of preservation!

4 out of 5: Preservation B Lister: Not bad! You have a generally solid understanding of preservation!

3 out of 5: Preservation Dilettante: You know a little about preservation, but could stand to step it up.

2 out of 5: Preservation Novice: It sounds like preservation isn’t your strongest suit but there’s hope yet.

1 out of 5: Preservation Rookie: Things are not looking so good for you, preservation-wise.

0 out of 5: Preservation Lightweight: At least there’s nowhere to go but up.

Modeling History: Making a Stiff-Board Parchment Binding with a Slotted Spine

Posted on April 4, 2013 by nyamhistofmed

This post comes from the 2012 Gladys Brooks conservation intern, Morgan Adams. Morgan is currently interning in the Thaw Conservation Center at the Morgan Library & Museum

As the 2012 Gladys Brooks intern I had the pleasure of working with Senior Book Conservator Anne Hillam on a model of a stiff-boards parchment binding with a slotted spine, a style seen commonly in Italian bindings of the 16th-17th centuries.

An example of a stiff-boards parchment binding with a slotted spine from the NYAM collection: Trincavello, De differentiis febrium, Venice, 1585. Left: Back cover and spine. Right: Front cover.

A unique feature of this binding is the juxtaposition of the parchment and alum-tawed skin used to cover the book’s spine. Slots cut in the parchment across the spine reveal the alum-tawed skin patches covering the sewing supports. It is a combination with structural as well aesthetic advantages: The alum-tawed skin provides the flexibility necessary to conform to the raised sewing supports, while the parchment provides a more durable surface to protect the bulk of the spine.

Trincavello (1585): Detail of spine showing the alum-tawed skin patch adhered over sewing support. The original color of the patch can be seen where the parchment is split along the shoulder of the spine.

To prepare for this binding, we made detailed examinations of six books printed in Venice between 1508 and 1585 in the NYAM special collections. In conjunction with Sylvia Pugliese’s study of this binding style at the National Library Marciana in Venice, we selected material and structural features that exemplified the binding style. These features are highlighted in the images below, which show the steps of the binding process and the finished model.

The text block is sewn on three laminated alum-tawed supports.

Left: The text block is rounded and backed and the spine is lined with parchment. Endbands are sewn through the spine lining on twisted alum-tawed skin supports. Right: Galen, Omnia quae extant in Latinum sermonem convsera, Venice, 1556, detail of the spine showing an endband, parchment spine lining, and one sewing station.

Left: Endbands seen from above. Right: Galen (1556) detail of the front bead endband sewn in red and white thread.

Left: The sewing supports are laced into the boards and then covered in alum-tawed skin patches. The endband cores are also laced into the boards. Right: Trincavello (1585), detail showing the “arrow-point” shaping of the alum-tawed skin patch underneath the parchment and the endband core that has been laced through the board and trimmed off flush with the board.

A template is prepared for cutting the slots in the parchment. The binding is now ready to be covered.

After the parchment cover is adhered, ties are laced through the boards at the fore-edge, head and tail. The parchment spine linings are adhered to the interior face of the board and the endsheet is pasted down.

Trincavello (1585), The surface of the pastedown reveals the ends of ties formerly laced through the board.

Finished model, complete with ties on fore-edge, head, and tail.

[1] Sylvia Pugliese, “Stiff-Board Vellum Binding with Slotted Spine: Survey of a Historical Bookbinding Structure,” in Papier Restaurierung – Mitteilungen der IADA, Vol. 2 (2001), Suppl., S. 93-101.

Looking for that je ne sais quoi : the conservation of Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré

Posted on February 28, 2013 by nyamhistofmed

By Christina Amato, Book Conservator

NYAM conservator Christina Amato removes a damaged and ill-suited spine from a 1633 copy of Paré’s Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré/

NYAM conservator Christina Amato removing a damaged and ill-suited spine from a 1633 copy of Paré’s Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré

Many books come through the Gladys Brooks Book and Paper Conservation lab, and often they receive minimal stabilization, or are rehoused in new boxes or folders. Occasionally one comes through that is in need of an entirely new binding, and requires some research before getting started.

Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré, before treatment. Click to enlarge.

This copy of Paré’s Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré came to the lab in rather sorry shape; it is a 17^th century book that had been rebound at some point in its past. The new binding, or cover, was clearly made centuries after the book was created, and was damaged to the extent that handling the book was very difficult. The usual practice in conservation is to use as many of the original parts as possible when repairing a book; in this case, however, the binding was not only heavily damaged, but inappropriate, so the decision was made to make a new binding for the book.

What kind of binding would be appropriate for a 17^th century French book? Beyond historical appropriateness, we had to consider the functionality of the new binding as well. It is a rather large, heavy book; what would be best for a book of this size? How often would this book be used? How would it be stored?

We began with the first question of historical appropriateness. We are lucky to have access to the library’s rare book collection, and were able to find other books from the same time period and location, and study their bindings. We also made use of our large collection of books about binding history, researched other libraries on-line bindings databases, and talked to colleagues.

Models of “semi-limp vellum” bindings. Click to enlarge.

With these things in mind, we decided to explore the possibility of making a variation of what is called a “semi-limp vellum” binding. Such bindings are commonly used in conservation, for their historical appropriateness and functionality. With a little digging, a picture started to emerge for us of a typical French, 17th century vellum binding. We did not find a lot of details about how these bindings were made, however. It was very helpful to make a few small models before tackling the original book, to work out these details, and try variations to understand differences in functionality.

With all the knowledge we acquired from these models, and from our research, we can now approach this treatment with confidence. Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré will have a well-thought out new binding which is faithful to its time period, and will protect it well, for years to come. Check back to read about the final stages of treatment and see pictures of the book in its new binding.

Books, Health and History

The New York Academy of Medicine

Tag Archives: book conservation

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For your viewing pleasure

Preservation Week Quiz

Modeling History: Making a Stiff-Board Parchment Binding with a Slotted Spine

Looking for that je ne sais quoi : the conservation of Les Oeuvres d’Ambroise Paré