leadfellas

December 24, 2020December 24, 2020

Victorian Christmas Cards

With 2020 ending, I thought I would share a Victorian Christmas story with you. During this year, I came across this tale and thought it a bit dark. Little did I know how the year would unfold – with hindsight it is a perfect fit! This time around we will be looking at the world of bizarre and somewhat macabre Victorian Christmas cards – nothing like what we see today.

The first Christmas card was printed in 1843.

Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images

“In 1843, the same year that English author Charles Dickens created A Christmas Carol, prominent English educator and society member, Sir Henry Cole, commissioned the first Christmas card. Even with an impressive print run of 1,000 cards (of which 21 exist today), full-fledged manufacturing remained only a sideline to the more established trade in playing cards, notepaper and envelopes, needle-box and linen labels and valentines…” https://www.history.com/news/victorian-christmas-cards Cole did try to sell the cards at one shilling a piece and, while this first attempt was a failure, the idea did capture peoples’ imagination.

As we have seen the Victorian era was full of many new and unique innovations and customs. Queen Victoria and her husband, Albert, introduced the German custom of bringing a pine tree into the house for Christmas. Who could forget mummy unwrapping parties (as discussed in an earlier blog)? Advances in photography where families would pose with their newly deceased members for one last family picture. Aerial printing presses in hot air balloons (check this out in our earlier blogs, too). The list goes on. So, why not send pictures of dead birds to people to commemorate Christmas? Several factors came together to make this a reality and, as usual, printing was a key contributor.

Countries like the UK and America had standardised postal rates. In the UK it was possible to send post for one penny, and later in the 1870s half price holiday post rates made it cheaper than ever to keep in touch with friends and family during the holiday season – around the world.

Improvements to printing processes, faster presses, and alternative processes like lithography, would drive down the costs for producing cards to a few cents. Global migration to countries like America would mean there was a ready market for cards to sell to send Christmas wishes to family and friends. A BBC report estimated that by 1880 there were over 11.5 million cards produced.

“Victorian Christmas cards were a mixed bag of iconography, ranging from religious to everyday things. But one theme common in these seasonal greetings was humor, but not always of the kind we can appreciate today. A dead robin, a frog stabbing another, and Saint Nicholas stuffing a kid in a sack. The significance of these bizarre imagery is lost, but it is important to remember that the tradition of Christmas was still new, and its iconography had not fully developed.” – https://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/creepy-victorian-christmas-cards/

So, what did the cards mean? “Social messages were often evoked, such as dead birds reminding people of the poor children dying in the winter streets. So, while they are profoundly, undeniably, bizarre to view now, even the creepiest of Victorian Christmas greetings likely had some contemporary meaning to the sender.” https://hyperallergic.com/261847/have-a-creepy-little-christmas-with-these-unsettling-victorian-cards/

One hundred and twenty years on, it is hard to imagine Christmas cards that do not have our now familiar themes on them. Advertising images created by Normal Rockwell, along with the mass card production through companies like Hallmark, have delivered a very sanitised image. In its own way these Victorian cards are a representation of a world long gone, but where chaos – even death – was accepted as part of everyday life. While perhaps not “enjoying” these cards, they do make an interesting statement on a different time of history. 2020 has been such a rocky year for many, it would be interesting if this type of reflective cards* was made today.

*We found these images over many sources on the internet, the links have been included below – some reference their sources, some do not. We in no way are intending to infringe on any existing copyrights.

I was sent this card at the beginning of 2020 – perhaps it was an omen.

The Leadfellas wish all our readers season’s greetings and hope for a safe, healthy, and peaceful new year!

Sources:

https://www.history.com/news/victorian-christmas-cards

https://www.amusingplanet.com/2019/12/creepy-victorian-christmas-cards.html

https://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/creepy-victorian-christmas-cards/

https://www.smithjournal.com.au/blogs/history/3233-the-strange-unsettling-christmas-cards-of-the-victorian-era

https://hyperallergic.com/261847/have-a-creepy-little-christmas-with-these-unsettling-victorian-cards/

The team at Leadfellas

November 2, 2020November 2, 2020

Nobody expects the font police!

Nobody expects the “font police”!

I am sure there are many people out there who think “a font is a font is a font”. No so! When you start to delve into the world of fakes and counterfeits it is really a multibillion-dollar industry. In today’s digital world, where a font is something that can be changed at a whim, a printed document is often about the only piece of tangible “non-fake” piece of data you can rely on. Or is it?

Recently, I came across an engrossing documentary called Sour Grapes on Netflix. It exposed the huge market in fake wines, showing the various tricks used to pass off nondescript wines for much more expensive ones. What was one of the key elements? Wrong-era fonts/printing techniques. This got us to thinking, there ought to be some great “out of sync” font stories out there.

Legal/document fraud is one area where incorrect fonts stand out. One story I found had a “font detective” highlight that a will not only had font issues, but it was dated 1983 and had been printed on a high-resolution inkjet, which coincidentally wasn’t in use until 1988. Ooops.

The stakes for “historical” documentation forgery can be even greater. In the 2004 elections in the US, the CBS network produced some documents/memos (referred to as the Killian documents) to show that President George Bush had received preferential treatment when he was in the Air National Guard during the early 1970s. The memos given as evidence were general photocopies of documents from the era.

Font detectives were skeptical from the outset. The font used was a variation of Times Roman, and maybe a golf ball-style typewriter could have been used. But more troubling was the fact that the lines were not monospaced, they showed evidence of kerning and proportional line spacing. Something that was mechanically impossible on a typewriter of the era.

Ultimately the documents were exposed as a forgery, but no one was punished – unless you consider Dan Rather, who narrated the episode and ended up retiring early.

Another cautionary font tale is the dangers of “Calibri”. Searches show two notable cases where people have come unstuck by using this font. In 2017, the former CEO of Look Communications filed for bankruptcy. As part of his claim, he intended to shield two homes from creditors. He was caught out. The culprit? Calibri! At the time the ex-exec claimed that the houses were held in trust and produced the signed declarations.

The thing is the signed documents were set in Calibri. Date of the documents — 1995. Date that Calibri was designed – 2002 — and out in the marketplace around 2007. Today it is a default font for Microsoft Word, Office, and others. Points must be given for the defence who said they might have been “mistaken” about the date the documents were signed, but the court should uphold the documents. Nice try. The court did not agree.

Another Calibri typeface story emerged during the Panama Papers story covering the vast scale of offshore accounts held by many people around the world. One of these people was the then prime minister of Pakistan – Nawaz Sharif. Amongst the documents, there were two offshore companies listed that showed the owner as his daughter, Maryam.

She responded with documents dated from 2006 that indicated she was just a trustee in the company. Again, these documents were formatted in Calibri (remember the default typeface for MS Word, etc.). Font specialists noticed this, and the documents demonstrated proved false. Calibri strikes again!

There are a lot of rabbit holes to get lost in looking at font fakeries — just check out the first link in the Wired article for instance.

In upcoming updates, we will talk about wrong fonts on the big screen. Until then, keep safe and be suspicious of any documents that you may have received formatted in Calibri!

Sources:

https://www.wired.com/story/meet-the-font-detectives-who-ferret-out-fakery/

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/canadian-fraudster-foiled-because-he-used-the-wrong-font

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5728684/

September 13, 2020September 13, 2020

The printer with the metal nose…

Sounds like a Bond villain, “man with the golden gun”. Or “man with the golden arm”? What if I said he also had a pet elk that used to drink beer – so much so that it unfortunately fell to its death down a staircase after having had one too many. Intrigued? Well this is the story of a Danish nobleman and renowned astronomer, Tycho Brahe. I am not going to discuss too much of his astronomical works but want to quickly talk about his private printing press.

I came across this tidbit in a podcast called “Noble Blood”. In it they talked about the life of Tycho Brahe – and my ears pricked up when they mentioned he had a printing press installed on his private island. The press was up and running in 1584, and he, Tycho Brahe, was among just a handful of astronomic scholars, producing their own books.

So, why the metal nose? Apparently Tycho Brahe had a bit of a temper and had a duel with one of his cousins. In the fight, his nose was sliced off! He had some prosthetic ones made up and always carried some glue to keep his face looking normal. This hard-headedness would be a lifelong trait. However, his astronomical works were extremely detailed and based on meticulous record-keeping. He attracted the patronage of the king of Denmark, Frederick II, in 1576 who gave him the island of Hven.

On the island he had free reign. The locals were to work for him for free two days a week. Tycho Brahe moved his family in and had an astronomical observatory commissioned there. He had made some significant discoveries, like a supernova in 1572 and a comet in 1577. Trying to find a suitable printer who would do justice to his scientific work proved an issue. As a result, Tycho Brahe decided to set up his own press on the island, calling it the “Uraniborg” press.

This was the renaissance era and Europe was now buzzing with new ideas as spread through the print media. Tycho Brahe worried that his works were either being copied, or worse, misrepresented by others. He had very particular requirements on how he wanted his works presented. Something he would lose control of if he did not control the typesetting and the press. You can see how central it was to his thinking in the illustration below.

In this picture you can see Tycho Brahe – biggest figure in the middle. On top, his astronomical work being done. In the middle panels are shown the printers working on producing books and printed materials. Initially he was reluctant to publish works as he considered book publishing to be undignified for a nobleman such as himself.

However, he was persuaded and did eventually take the leap. By all accounts Tycho Brahe was a very demanding task master. He commissioned the gathering and construction of a printing press and started work putting together a volume on the comet of 1577. Many of his works were given away as gifts. It was a way of building his prestige as the pre-imminent astronomical scholar of the age. It must be remembered that Tycho Brahe did not use a telescope when making his observations. He was probably the last major naked eye observer of the night skies. He built a series of what we would call sextants to align stars and celestial objects and track their movements. These were recorded in extreme detail in his charts and tables. You can kind of understand why someone who has spent years of their life – in the freezing climes of northern Europe – at all hours of the night, peering along various sighting sticks, would want to control their collected data!

His press was a not-for-profit operation. Books produced there were gifts given to other scholars, nobles, and princes. Some had awfully expensive bindings and included hand-coloured prints. In fact, demand appeared to be so great that he had a second press set up in 1589. But, being on an island, logistics were always a problem. Two presses require more paper – a problem that needed solving. Sending staff to buy paper was not a viable option anymore.

Though I cannot find more than a passing reference to it, but Tycho Brahe lived with his uncle, Steen Bille, for a while. His uncle founded the first paper mill in Denmark. Whether this was the background or not, Tycho Brahe had his gangs of local labourers build several ponds and dams on the island to allow a paper mill to be set up. Once up and running the mill used linen rags to create high-quality paper. Some books even had parchment paper. Paper produced carried a watermark of the Brahe crest as well as Tycho Brahe’s initials on each page. Ultimately there was method behind his dual print set up. Tycho Brahe could have one volume of his works printed on the first press, then the second volume run at the same time on the other. This allowed him to hit the scientific audiences in Europe with multiple volumes of work and thereby build up his reputation.

Tycho Brahe had the world at his feet. A private island, a free work force, his own observatory, two printing presses as well as a paper mill and royal patronage! But, as they say, every good thing must come to an end. The upkeep of the observatory proved to be awfully expensive, some estimates put it between 1-3% of the whole state’s budget. On top of that, Tycho Brahe fell out with the new king in 1597 and went into exile. He found new patronage with the Holy Roman Emperor located in Prague and became the official astronomer. He was installed there in 1600 until his death in 1601. His assistant while there, Johannes Kepler, went on to use his data to develop his own laws of planetary motion.

This brings us to the final twist of the story. Like our friend John Baskerville, Tycho Brahe was a man that just did not rest in peace. Intrigues revolved around whether he had been done in so that others could benefit from his detailed observations. So, he was exhumed – twice. Once in 1901 and again in 2020. Both times to examine the way he died. Despite the fact he dabbled in alchemy, no significant levels of heavy metals were found. The report of the time, burst bladder, was most likely true.

To put a modern spin on this story. Tycho Brahe was a brilliant astronomer and inventor. He also had a very savvy grasp on the newly emerged print media and how to best use it to build his reputation. If he were alive today, I could see him on the internet. Whether as a blogger, influencer or more. In many ways he was ahead of his time when looking at communicating with a wider audience.

This story mainly focuses on the printing back story. Take the time to read into Tycho Brahe’s full story and discoveries, it makes for an interesting read of a multi-faceted individual.

Sources:

Podcast – Noble Blood.

https://beforenewton.blog/daily-readings/tycho-brahe/hven/tycho-brahe-the-printing-press/

http://www.sites.hps.cam.ac.uk/starry/tychobooks.html

https://faculty.wcas.northwestern.edu/~infocom/Ideas/brahe.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tycho_Brahe

The team at Leadfellas

August 17, 2020August 17, 2020

My pineapple has a typo!

This time we are talking about the plastic money issued by the Australian Government. The polymer notes, as they are known, were first issued in 1988 at the time of the Bicentennial in Australia. The Australian process has been commercialised and sold to many other countries around the world. So why the change in the first place? Turns out counterfeiting was a concern. Reading a history provided by the Reserve Bank, it seems that this was in our monetary history.

Quote – 1921, almost £3,000 (around $250,000 in current prices) in counterfeit £1 and £5 notes were circulating, corresponding to an estimated counterfeiting rate for those denominations in the order of hundreds of parts per million (compared with around 10 parts per million currently). – A Brief History of Currency Counterfeiting Richard Finlay and Anny Francis

With the birth of decimal currency in 1966, it was an opportunity to upgrade the print security of the money in circulation. New features, such as watermarks, inserted metal threads along with raised print, were used. Imagine the surprise when less than a year later, forged $10 notes began to appear. Referred to as the “Times Bakery” incident – based on the misprinting of some lines on the note which showed a picture of a bakery – it was estimated that between $900,000 to $1,000,000 were issued. This put the rate of counterfeiting to several thousand parts per million – far larger than the 1920s! Ooops…

What was the solution? Well, throw “science” at it. The process was hammered out with the Reserve Bank, the CSIRO and the University of Melbourne. Quote – In 1968, a “think tank” was arranged, at Thredbo, NSW, for a few scientists from CSIRO and the universities to come together and discuss the challenge. The invitations to the initial meeting were incidentally dated April 1st, and they indicated that discussions were to be on “some aspects of banknote printing”. – https://csiropedia.csiro.au/polymer-banknotes/ April 1st? Maybe to throw would be spies off the trail?

As you can imagine, this was incredibly detailed work and there was a host of technical issues to be resolved. One was the patented “optically variable device” created by diffraction in plastic as an anti-counterfeit measure. This required special lamination processes to ensure the “optically variable device” did not need a punch hole to be inserted into the note. Testing would provide its own special requirements. As the notes could not be issued, special $3 and $7 notes were made. Here is an extract from the CSIRO on how they tested the notes for durability.

Testing was a particular challenge: it is not possible to field trial a banknote. One such test was the so called Turbula, or Tumble Test, which involved placing weights in the corners of the notes and then tumbling them in a kerosene drum containing controlled amounts of synthetic dirt (carbon black), abrasive materials (polypropylene beads) and even artificial sweat. This was remarkably accurate in predicting the field performance of the notes, and found use in later quality control. – https://csiropedia.csiro.au/polymer-banknotes/

The process was involved, but paid dividends. The Reserve Bank was slower to come onboard, after all this was quite a change. From reading it appears it took 10 years to gain final approval. To mark the Bicentennial year in 1988 the first notes were issued – a commemorative $10 note. I cannot help wondering if there is a certain amount of irony in that, with the $10 note being the one forged in 1967, which sparked off the change that resulted in plastic money. By 1998, all notes were converted to plastic. The estimated savings at the time were around $20 million a year. The technology was sold on to other countries and now is used in over 20 countries such as Fiji, New Zealand, Canada and Papua New Guinea to name a few.

Another benefit of the polymer note is that they have a long circulation period. Studies by the Reserve Bank have shown that $5 and $10 notes generally survive for five years. $20 and $50 for up to 20 years! So, imagine if there was a typo on these notes, it would be a glaring error for many, many years to come. This is exactly what happened.

In 2019 the Reserve bank confirmed that it had released $46 million of new issue $50 notes – with a typo. While the note is technically advanced to prevent counterfeiting, it does have a typo on one side. The word “responsibility” was misspelt. To be fair, it is in a section generally referred to as “micro print” and in an exceedingly small point size. Treasury officials said the error was noted and would be fixed in future runs. Given how many are in circulation, and with a lifespan of around 20 years, I do not think they will be collectors’ items soon.

One more aspect of plastic money to be explored though. With our Covid world, handling money has been much shunned in favour of contactless transactions. This led us to wonder just how dirty is the money we use?

A study in 2012 did show that polymer notes were a great breeding ground for some types of bugs. But do not worry too much, a plastic banknote is up to three times more hygienic than traditional paper bills, showing much lower bacterial counts. The bills can also be cleaned and disinfected if needed. Interestingly another study in the Netherlands showed that coins had antibacterial properties due to the metals like copper and silver in them. Apparently, a coin may have up to 1,000 bacteria on it compared to several million on a note. The health advice to keep washing your hands seems incredibly wise.

So, where does all this leave us? Well, to me, it shows that no matter how smart or advanced we become, there is always room for a “printer’s devil” to wreak havoc in a print run. By the way, for those not familiar with Australian slang, a $50 note is referred to as a “pineapple” due to its colour. The $20 note is called a “lobster”.

Finally, looking to collect a valuable banknote, try the one shown in this link. Once you find the hidden word, you cannot unsee it!

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-gloucestershire-36111824

Sources:

https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/fandd/2016/06/currency.htm#:~:text=Polymer%20is%20now%20used%20in,producing%20paper%20and%20plastic%20bills.

https://www.bmsmigration.com/australia-inventor-of-safe-plastic-money/

https://csiropedia.csiro.au/polymer-banknotes/

https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2019/may/09/australian-50-note-typo-spelling-mistake-printed-46-million-times

https://www.kidsnews.com.au/money/the-reserve-bank-reveals-how-long-each-of-our-polymer-banknotes-lasts/news-story/708de8476827132ab0786f79d2095461

https://www.lovemoney.com/gallerylist/62075/coronavirus-youll-never-believe-whats-really-lurking-on-your-money

A Brief History of Currency Counterfeiting Richard Finlay and Anny Francis

The team at Leadfellas

August 2, 2020August 17, 2020

When doves cry…

In the famous song by Prince, “When Doves Cry”, the song revolves around a couple who have fallen out of love. In the world of type, there is another version of the “Doves” story. This is about reputably one of the more beautiful typefaces that was drowned after its two business partners fell out. This tale covers “Doves” type, its creation, destruction, and final resurrection. Enjoy.

Doves type had its genesis in the “private press movement”, which ran from the early 1890s until the end of World War 2. Like earlier artistic movements, such as the romantic era in the 19th century, the private press movement could be a back-to-basics approach. As modern printing became more mechanised, this was an attempt to appreciate and explore the beauty of the printed word. Presses that were set up with this ethos were not out to make money, but rather artistic works; reprinting the great works of the past like Shakespeare, Milton, and others. Their presses where kept afloat through subscriptions, not too dissimilar a concept used by podcasts today.

Into this movement we find a partnership set up in 1900 between Thomas Cobden-Sanderson and Emery Walker — two friends who lived quite close to each other. Their famous type was initially created in 1899 – based on Venetian typefaces of the 15th century — and during their first 10 years together they printed some remarkably beautiful handset books, from the English Bible to works of literature like Paradise Lost.

Source – Wikipedia

Walker and Cobden-Sanderson were definitely “yin and yang”. Walker came with the business savvy, and Cobden-Sanderson was the print perfectionist. Walker was able to delegate work and trusted his staff, whereas Cobden-Sanderson would obsessively check each proof looking for errors. By 1906 the partnership was on the rocks and Cobden-Sanderson wanted to go it alone. From all accounts the dispute was very protracted and revolved around the “Doves” typeface and who had ownership of it. A mutual friend resolved the issue in which both parties agreed that the older Cobden-Sanderson could use the font until his death, after which the matrices and type would become Walker’s property.

However, Cobden-Sanderson was not willing to let the Doves font go so easily, he was worried that Walker may make copies of it available to others and thereby debase his font. He records that he made the decision to destroy the font in 1909 and threw the punches and matrices off the Hammersmith Bridge in 1913. This would ensure no new type could be cast. But that was not the end of the story. He went further, and from August 1916 he began to dispose of the type itself into the waters. Many accounts look at the age of Cobden-Sanderson – already in his mid-70s at the time – and how he threw approximately 2,600 pounds of type from the bridge! He would do this under the cover of night and throw a few galleys at a time into the watery depths. It took him from August 1916 to January 1917 to complete his destruction. Apparently, he signaled the font’s demise with a note in The Times in 1917 to say that he had “bequeathed” the type to the Thames.

Surprisingly, this was not an altogether uncommon occurrence in the area. Urban archaeology of the river, which is close to the printing district of Fleet Street, has uncovered a large amount of type that had been thrown into the waters. Seems like much was thrown out of windows by compositors too lazy to return it to their cases (I reckon it might have been apprentices who had to sort out the “hell box” of various type from galleys as they broke them down – type out of window – job done). Similar finds have been made in France and other countries.

So where did this leave Walker in their arrangement? Cobden-Sanderson would be dead five years later. Walker was furious at his actions and sent Cobden-Sanderson’s widow a writ for the cost of replacing the type. Something she could not afford and when she died her ashes were put alongside her husband’s in their garden on the Thames. In a piece of irony, the year after, the Thames river swelled and took both sets of ashes and swept them to join the remnants of Doves type on the muddy floor of the river.

But the story does not end there. A graphic designer, Robert Green, became caught up in the story of Doves type. He has been working on digitising the font based on printed examples from the various books produced in it. But he is a perfectionist, so much so he paid for divers to go down and find the pieces. Using journals from Cobden-Sanderson, he worked out the details of the secluded spot where he stood on the Hammersmith bridge to scatter the type. His hunch worked and by the riverbed he found three pieces of type. Given it was over 100 years since the type was discarded, he widened the range to scour. The divers reported the muddy riverbed was very much like quicksand near the bridge, but nevertheless, they found 151 pieces of type! This was enough for a resurrection of sorts (pardon the pun). Robert Green has added other characters into the mix and there is now a full font of Doves type available to download!

This has been a real tale of loss and recovery, of dedication – with a purist zeal – in which a good typeface is not lost to the world. A typeface that is seen as more than a utilitarian object, but a piece of beauty, in an age when mechanisation was taking the soul out of a long-established craft.

Sources:

https://www.typeroom.eu/article/15-things-you-didnt-know-about-doves-press-its-type

https://www.simongarfield.com/books/just-my-type/

https://www.harpercollins.com/products/printers-error-rebecca-romneyj-p-romney?variant=32117924331554

https://www.buzzfeed.com/hayleycampbell/when-doves-type

How to download a copy of Doves type

https://typespec.co.uk/downloads/doves-type-imprint/

July 5, 2020July 5, 2020

1891 Typesetting machine showdown!

A few weeks ago, we talked about the “Swifts” – the fastest hand typesetters. Their competitions were legendary! But, ultimately, theirs was a dying craft. The new mechanised age typesetting was starting to make its presence felt. Today we talk about the impact of the Linotype and Monotype machines in the next chapter of typesetting. But their ascendance was far from assured with many other rivals vying for market dominance. In the period 1822-1891 there were 75 different typesetting machines available in the US alone!

Quite apart from the number of competitors chasing the market, the sheer size of the market made it very lucrative. In a report given by The American Newspaper Directory for 1890, there was a list of 17,760 regular publications. This amounted to 41,524,000 copies a year. Multiply this by their publication frequency – daily, weekly, monthly, etc. – and a whopping estimated 3,481,610,000 copies were printed! An extremely attractive market for the producers of typesetting machinery. It was in October 1891, in Chicago, that the American Newspaper Publishers’ Association (also known as the ANPA) set up a four-day competition of some of the various typesetting systems in the market.

Articles from the period showed that these contests generated lots of interest, not only with trades people, but also with the wider public – rather like the earlier public competitions held by the “Swifts”. The competition attracted four different typesetting machines.

ST JOHN TYPOBAR. This was an American machine that utilised impressions, a type-bar and ran on electricity. Method of operation – it circulated hardened-steel matrices; keyboard released mats from magazine to assembler, soft cold metal blanks mounted on steel bases presented to line of mats. Justification by wedges; mats embossed line on blanks, then line passed through trimming knives. Mats returned to magazine automatically; metal blanks stored in composer. After use, type-bars were run through another machine that stripped type metal from bases. Bases were re-used; no cams; run by rotary devices.

McMILLAN TYPESETTER and DISTRIBUTOR. An American machine, this was a single-type unit that ran on electricity and used gravity. Method of operation – type was removed by a “grab” that engaged nicks in type. Justification automatic – distribution automatic in separate machine. There were several styles built for different kinds of composition. In operation for approximately 20 years.

ROGERS TYPOGRAPH. An American machine, this was a matrix, slug caster that ran on electricity. Method of operation – matrices were long brass rods, strung on wires in elliptical frame; upon release by keyboard, matrices slid down wires to assembly and casting position. After cast operator tipped frame back, mats slid back to home position. Justification by revolving wedges. This system had wide commercial use, popular in Canada and Europe, especially in Germany until World War II, and later revived, with improvements, in Germany in about 1964.

SIMPLEX LINOTYPE. An American machine, this was a matrix, line-slug caster and the third stage of Linotype development. It was to be the first true production model running on electricity. Method of operation – inclined magazine, circulating matrices; released by verge escapement with gravity to assembler. There a rotating mould disc, casting and trimming devices were used. Justification by double wedge (space band); distribution by combination teeth in matrices and grooved distributor bar; elevated to top of magazine and was the basis for all subsequent models. The system was in universal use.

So, who came out on top? The answer may surprise you! The Rogers Typograph won the contest. Based on the best and most economical results. The committee chairman went on to say of the Linotype – “because of its delicate and complicated mechanism, fell short of the claims of its inventor (although he also noted that the Linotype operator was both reckless and sulking during the trial)”. – http://www.codex99.com/typography/124.html

Then why don’t we have lots of Typograph units everywhere? The answer is patents. The Merganthaler company went on to successfully sue the Rogers Typograph team for patent infringement. In his quest for constant improvement Ottmar Merganthaler would improve on his 1891 design and by 1892 there were over 500 units in production. As a result of this, the Merganthaler company also set price expectations in the marketplace. Any competitor would need to bear this in mind when trying to sell against them.

One interesting system that was not in the 1891 competition, but requested an individual test be done, was the Paige Compositor. This machine has a particularly interesting history and was heavily financed by the American author Mark Twain. It did function very well, and reportedly outperformed both the Typograph and Linotype units with speeds more than twice as high. Everything looked good and several newspapers were approached.

PAIGE COMPOSITOR. An American machine, this was a singletype, justifier, distributor; powered by electricity and gravity. It delivered perfect composition; justification and distribution automatically using notched type. Type was stored in upright channels. Only two models built in over 20 years.

But, as they say, the devil is in the detail. “At the height of its development, the Paige machine had over 18,000 separate parts and was designed (with the help of one operator at the keyboard) to set over 8,000 ems an hour. Before it could be made to work consistently, however, the Linotype machine swept the market.” – https://twain.lib.virginia.edu/yankee/cymach6.html

Only two were ever built. One was given up for scrap metal during World War II and the other is in a museum dedicated to Mark Twain. Another typesetting dream bites the dust (more on the Paige Compositor/Mark Twain story in upcoming blog entries).

With the large number of competing typesetting systems in play during the 19th century it really did make sense to have a competition to establish the claims of each manufacturer. Despite not being the first choice, the Linotype machine was able to use the event as a baseline and further enhance its units. By wedging its opponents, Linotype went on to create a worldwide network of installations and firmly cemented itself as the disrupter of hand typesetting forever. But, as they say, what comes around, goes around. Today, the Linotype is viewed with the same historical curiosity as its competitors. But that is progress, I suppose.

Sources:

http://metaltype.co.uk/wpress/1891-typesetting-competition/

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/13443/13443-h/13443-h.htm#misc1

http://www.codex99.com/typography/124.html

https://history.nebraska.gov/sites/history.nebraska.gov/files/doc/publications/NH1968BryanEditor.pdf

https://twain.lib.virginia.edu/yankee/cymach6.html

https://s3-us-west-

2.amazonaws.com/visiblelanguage/pdf/1.3/chronological-listing-of-typesetting-machines-and-ancillary-equipment-l822-l925.pdf

The team at Leadfellas

June 28, 2020June 30, 2020

Ugly typeface research – is Comic Sans really better?

Here is a blog entry that seems to run counter to all our earlier entries extolling the virtue of “beautiful” and legible typefaces (Baskerville/Futura). In our digitised age we are now able to change entire fonts in a document/book/presentation at will in our e-reader/kindle devices. As such, some remarkably interesting research has emerged on the role of using “ugly”, or unconventional, typefaces to make a lasting impression (pardon the pun). Surprisingly, comic strip style fonts like Comic Sans may be useful in helping people remember what they have recently read!

US research at several universities put this to the test. They took what were considered “difficult fonts” like Comic Sans and presented documents to a group. The other group received documents set in Arial. It turned out that the group that had Comic Sans were able to remember their documents significantly better.

Taken from Pretty Ugly – lunascafe.org

In further tests, reading material for students over six classes were reset in what were referred to as “disfluent” fonts like Comic Sans, Monotype Corsiva, etc. The reset material was given at a group of over 220 students who acted as a control group. Against the other group, who had the same texts in traditional “fluent” fonts like Arial, the study showed that the control group (disfluent) had a significantly better recollection of the information as they felt it was a bit more difficult to read/understand. The results tend to show that the more challenging it is when learning new material, the more thoroughly students will understand it. Disfluency – as it is known – indicates that people process information more deeply, carefully, abstractly and have better comprehension – all leading to more effective learning.

So, what does this mean? Do people learn better when they must struggle? It appears that content set out in hard-to-read fonts is better remembered than the more traditional fonts. Is it just beauty in the eye of the beholder? The author, George Bernard Shaw, for example, insisted that all his works should be set in Caslon font. Changing your font will not make your write like Shaw, however!

Quote: “What if the findings actually indicate the opposite: that Arial is the ‘ugly’ font, and moving away from a crowded, over-tightly spaced font improves things? Far from working because they are ‘ugly’, these other typefaces might work simply because they are ‘different’.” – https://www.lunascafe.org/2011/01/pretty-ugly.html

So, maybe we have been wrong in our judgments of various examples of “bad” typography and “crappy” websites. Again, it is hard to get an old dog to learn new tricks! The Leadfellas invite your opinions.

Sources:

https://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2011/05/30/3230801.htm

https://www.pcworld.com/article/216784/ugly_fonts_aid_memory.html

https://www.wired.com/2011/01/the-benefit-of-ugly-fonts/

https://www.lunascafe.org/2011/01/pretty-ugly.html

June 21, 2020June 21, 2020

The Dawn – Australia’s first all-female newspaper

The Dawn – Australia’s first all-female newspaper

For those of you have read our past blog entries on “Wrong Fonts” and “Competitive Typesetting” you will remember the hard time that women had breaking into the print industry in general. Now, add a mixture of radicalism of the late 19th century – as covered in our “Hard Cash” entry – and you have the seeds in place for an all-female publication. Long before the Women’s Weekly had become a fixture in Australian society, The Dawn: A Journal for Australian Women was published in 1888 and ran all the way through to 1905.

Louisa Lawson, the mother of famed writer Henry Lawson, had teamed with some other investors in 1887 and bought a small printing plant. There they produced a paper called The Republican. This monthly paper was overtly nationalist as well as anti-racist. Her son, Henry, learnt typesetting there and published his first works in the paper. He later found fame in The Bulletin, publishing his poems. It is also of interest to note that at this time Louisa Lawson and her son Henry moved in some radical circles. People like Arthur Desmond, of the underground press publication Hard Cash, as well as future politicians like William Hughes and Jack Lang all dabbled in socialist ideals of the era.

The Republican did not have a long print run, lasting less than a year. But Louisa saw another publishing opportunity, and in 1888 she launched The Dawn; A Journal for Women. The stated purpose was to be a “phonograph to wind out audibly, the whispers, pleadings and demands of the sisterhood” – Reason In Revolt.

The first edition was published in May 1888. It was a monthly journal of 32 pages and sold for three pence. Indications are that there were up to 1,000 subscribers a year throughout Australia and New Zealand, and by the 1890s had made it to the UK, Europe and the US. It ran for 17 years in total. As a publication it had a broad appeal and aimed at more than just a middle-class audience, and price pitched at the working classes. They published articles on home hints had various columns and editorials, short stories, children’s articles, fashion, and short poems. There was always a political undercurrent in the editions. The Dawn led on women’s issues, which had no real voice at the time. They would cover topics like spousal abuse to practical articles on how to ride a bicycle. This reflects the overall beliefs of Louisa Lawson had in equality and opportunity for women in the workforce. She reflected this through her newspaper, and this brought her into direct conflict with the printing union of the time.

The Dawn was unusual in that it was solely staffed by women. This covered the writers through to typesetters. As shown in our “Wrong Fonts” blog, the presence of women in the composing room was a bridge too far! The union did not extend membership to women and threatened to impact on the advertising revenue (which The Dawn relied on). As usual the union of the time feared that women compositors would undercut male typesetters’ wages. At one point the union came to The Dawn’s offices to “harangue” the staff – Louisa Lawson saw them off by dousing them with a bucket of water! A determined woman indeed.

The Dawn closed in July 1905. Louisa Lawson closed it down as she believed she started the paper and found no one suitable to keep it running. The publication had a relatively long life and was widely read not only in Australia but overseas. Some historians point to the influence of Louisa Lawson in the British suffrage movement. Again “Wrong Fonts” are punching well above their weight! Many editions of The Dawn are now digitised if you want to have a look at its pages (see links below).

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dawn_(feminist_magazine)

http://www.reasoninrevolt.net.au/biogs/E000201b.htm

http://dangerouswomenproject.org/2017/03/06/louisa-lawson/

https://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/lawson_louisa

May 17, 2020May 25, 2020

The Printer’s Hat

Here is a short tale of what was once a very iconic item relating to the print industry – the printer’s hat. What seemed a quaint folded hat, made from a piece of newspaper, has a short history attached. Surprisingly, it was quite a common thing in various trades, especially in the latter part of the Victorian era.

The hats themselves denoted a social class or standing, especially with craftsmen and tradesmen. Trades like carpentry, woodworking, painters, papermakers and others. Unlike today, protective clothing and headwear was not really a thing. In the era when the communal Saturday night bath was a thing, hair was not washed and cleaned regularly. The paper hat kept hair out of the face and work area and offered some protection against dust/toxic chemicals commonly found in the Victorian era workplace.

For printers, working in a very inky environment, the hat was very practical as it kept hair in place and ink off their heads. Another point of consideration is that it was not until the latter part of the Victorian era [ that paper production was changed from rags to wood pulp (see our earlier blog entry on Mummy paper for more). This meant that the rag-based paper was tougher, and this type of cap would last for a longer period.

A Victorian print from Lewis Carroll’s The Walrus and The Carpenter showing a paper hat being worn.

In the US, the basic pattern for a printing hat goes back to 1748. It was considered a rite of passage for press operators to master the art of quickly folding a hat from a sheet of newsprint at the start of a shift. Apparently, it was part of all pressmen’s education, to learn to fold this type of hat. Note the fancy visors added to the print hats in the picture on the right.

But – like everything with the print industry – it’s undergoing change. Broadsheets have given way to smaller tabloid editions, which results in smaller sheets of paper. Couple this with the demise in the physical newsprint production (see our other blog piece on the decline of the rural press) and the skill of making a printer’s hat becomes less common.

Here at the Leadfellas we are determined that this skill does not drift off into print history! While most of us are in some form of isolation, or have restricted movement, we have included some links to how to fold your own printer’s hat! This is a great family activity, or even as a basic school lesson for children. Through trial and error, we would recommend buying a copy of The Australian, as it is a perfect size to practise on. Check out our links to assorted sites and YouTube to show you how it is done! Have fun and let us know how you go with folding your own hats!

http://www.metaltype.co.uk/downloads/phat.pdf

Watch this if it is easier for you:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEnYmWVTJ4Y

Here is a great link to many kinds of paper hats. Something to do with your family (or yourself – we do not judge) while in lockdown. Have fun.

http://www.origamiheaven.com/historyofpaperhats.htm

Sources:

https://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2013/08/23/the-rise-of-the-paper-hats/

https://www.retrothing.com/2010/10/the-shrinking-pressmans-hat.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Printer%27s_hat

https://www.americanheritage.com/how-make-pressmans-hat#

May 10, 2020May 25, 2020

Brief history of ANZAC trench publications

The Leadfellas previously had a dual blog entry covering the British trench magazine Wipers Times. Well, here is another similar tale, this time it’s about Aussie – The Australian Soldiers’ Magazine and the Kia Ora Coo-ee publications. With ANZAC day services being severely curtailed this year due to the impact of the coronavirus, we thought we would offer a small memorial to the brave print team of The Australian Forces Printing Section. This team served in both World War One and Two beside the British and Indian Printing Sections.

While the British trench paper Wipers Times was born on borrowed equipment, and had a fairly limited production run, the Australian paper Aussie also had a humble start, but with senior officer support grew very quickly and was in production from January 1918 until 1932. It was printed by the Australian Imperial Forces Printing section on the field in France. Its founder, Lieutenant Phillip Harris, was a journalist who became its sole editor.

He brought with him to France a small platen printing press with typesetting materials that he had obtained from various firms scattered between Sydney and Melbourne. On his journey over on the troopship Ceramic he produced a small regimental paper called Honk. Harris was determined to publish a broader newsheet for the frontline soldiers. His small platen unit was not up to the task being only able to do one page at a time, plus the inevitable paper shortages. Nevertheless, he was able to do an initial run of Aussie from a location on the western front and produced 10,000 copies.

Demand was so great that the next edition was for 60,000 copies. Harris went in search of a replacement press and found a wrecked unit in Dunkirk. It was repaired and pressed into service. Paper was scrounged from various local printshops and paper mills. By the time of the third issue he came across a printing works with 10 tons of paper in Armentieres – and also established a stereotyping plant. This allowed him to issue 100,000 copies of the third issue. That’s a fairly sophisticated set-up by any standards – especially when working on a war front. The magazine was an A4, double-sided print with 10 pages per publication. Aussie was published through the Australian Forces Printing Section. This is a key difference between how the Wipers Times was produced which was far more ad hoc.

Paper was a continual issue, so Harris approached Brigadier General Dodds for help. He organised, with the war office, for three tons of paper per issue from London. The press moved several times and suffered damage from German artillery, but still remained in working order. Harris would travel to the frontline regularly to obtain fresh material from the troops. By war’s end, Aussie had a circulation of 80-100,000 and was well regarded by Australian troops.

The editor, Philip Harris, referred to the “slanguage” of the publication. This was a definite point of difference where Australian troops could feel their national identity and what it was to be a “digger”. Unique words like “cobber”, “dinkum” and “furphy” gained currency through Aussie. Established and-up-and coming writers, such as Banjo Patterson, Henry Lawson and C. J. Dennis, also contributed articles.

With the end of the war, the paper was published as Aussie “now in civvies”. It still retained its mix of humour, cartoons and stories. In the following years Aussie changed its format to include things like women’s pages and lifestyle features. Its circulation grew to about 100,000 but readership declined, and it eventually closed in 1932.

There were other Australian “trench” publications in existence during World War One. Another that reflects the spirit of ANZAC was the Kia Ora Coo-ee – a joint Australian/New Zealand publication.

While Aussie was designed for troops on the Western Front. The Kia Ora Coo-ee was to cover ANZAC troops in Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia. The publication itself was printed in Cairo by a commercial printer – between March to December 1918 – with 10 issues altogether. It was a very professionally put together publication, which sold advertising space and made a profit.

The publication covered stories from the troops, various articles, cartoons and poetry. Accounts indicate that these were often sent home with letters to loved-ones and the family to give them a snapshot of life in their region.

We would be remiss not to mention the role of the Australian Forces Printing Section. This background is based on the work of the British Forces Printing Section. But the Australian and Indian armies worked alongside them during World War One. The British unit during World War One went up to the strength of a battalion by 1917 with 53 officers and 850 men. They were spread between three printing presses on the Western Front and had as many as 13 presses between Europe and the Middle East. Their responsibilities were to print everything from a field service postcard to detailed military manuals and photography. They were also used to maintain about 5,000 typewriters in the field and had a mobile motorcycle team to repair them. Their equipment included Linotype machines and various presses. Work could be contracted out to civilian printers in the UK at times of high demand.

Further they also printed in several languages – Flemish, French, Chinese and Indian. Many required large print runs. Small runs were also catered for and included mess menus and Christmas cards. The services also covered things like rubber stamps, etc. By war’s end there were about 1,100 separate documents on file, with a distribution of about 400,000 per week. Secret documents, such as battle orders, were produced during evening hours. The contents were on a need to know basis and distributed in such a way that no one person had the whole document. Imagine typesetting/printing in this environment! One example of how fast they could produce output was in 1915 when a print run of 15,000 documents was requested. The copy covered instructions for firing rifle grenades. It was sent to them at 5.30 in the evening. All was printed and ready by the next morning. That’s a feat that would be in line with modern computerised equipment. Here we have a team of printing professionals working their Linotype machines, proofing it, locking it down, printing/collating and ready in under 12 hours (alongside battle orders and other urgent print runs).

It’s often said it takes 10 support members to keep a single man at the frontline. Logistics are never seen as the fancy side of a battle, but without all the support teams working in the background, a war would quickly grind to a halt. The Leadfellas would like to take a moment and reflect on the work done, and professionalism shown, by the various print teams who served on the various fronts in the First World War.