Monday, June 2, 2014

Curating an exhibition: All Things Bright and Beautiful

 


For this year’s annual Commemoration weekend (4th-6th April), we decided to create an exhibition of our special collections that was a bit out of the ordinary. Newnham’s special collections don’t just hold early editions of texts, but all manner of eye-catching drawings, prints, illustrations and watercolours, so we decided to put a selection on display on the theme ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’. Here’s how we went about creating it from start to finish.
                        



Finding inspiration:

Where do you start with roughly 6000 volumes to choose from and only 3 display cases? In the past few months, we’ve been (slowly, but surely!) taking a stock check of special collections. Going through the entire stock one by one gives you the chance to remind yourself of what’s in the collection and what condition items are in (and whether they’re too delicate to display), and is therefore the perfect opportunity to start a mental list of any interesting items that could potentially come together to make an exhibition. 

We have a huge variety of material, predominantly because our special collections are almost entirely made up of donations from alumnae or supporters of the college.  Many of the older colleges’ special collections reflect the history of the library’s original stock from the 16th century and/or the syllabi that students followed. But since Newnham was only founded in 1871, our rare books were donated from all sorts of benefactors with all sorts of interests, so are incredibly diverse.

As we were going around the shelves, I was inspired not by a particular topic or subject matter, but instead began to notice that we had all sorts of interesting visual material: not just books that had beautiful exteriors, but those that contained hand-drawn illustrations, prints, watercolours, engraved plates, or even flowers pressed inside them. In the past few years, the library has curated exhibitions that focused on books’ textual content or provenance, such as 2013’s Literary Connections exhibition. However, I thought it would be nice to do something a bit different, and decided to choose items that appealed to the senses… particularly because you rarely have the opportunity to see the beautiful images inside a book when they’re lined up on the shelf!


Choosing a theme:

The next step was to shape this pictorial material into a theme, as “Books we thought were pretty” isn’t going to win any prize’s for the world’s most inviting exhibition title! The majority of my inspiration came from when we were inspecting the natural sciences collection. We have a large collection of botanical illustrations including four volumes of beautiful hand-painted watercolours by Florence Strudwick (NC 1898), and a number of zoological illustrations, including some plates from Nodder and Shaw’s ‘Naturalist’s Miscellany’, which was published in instalments between 1789 and 1813, and contains the first scientific account of the duck-billed platypus. [1]



The first published illustration of a platypus, engraved and hand-coloured by Frederick Polydore Nodder,  1789


However, we also have a collection of coloured prints depicting the observation of the Northern Lights over Cambridge in 1847, as well as some gorgeous books and bindings in their own right, which I wanted to include. We didn’t want to narrow the exhibition down to solely zoology and botany, as it meant lots of interesting material would go unnoticed and the exhibition wouldn’t appeal to a wide range of people.

In the end, we settled on the title ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’. Not only did this give us scope to exhibit images from the natural world, but it allowed us to include some of the other objects in our collection which are visually stunning and have some amazing history.


Choosing the material:

The next task was to identify the sort of material we wanted to display. Although ‘all things bright and beautiful’ is a saying in its own right, I thought it would be nice to use the lines from the popular hymn written by Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander in 1848, to divide the display into smaller sections and to create a narrative for visitors.

The final sections we decided on were:

  • ‘All creatures great’: mammals (including human anatomy), reptiles and amphibians.
  • ‘… and small’: insects such as butterflies, beetles and bees, and sealife on the shelf below.
  • ‘The sunset and the morning, that brighten up the sky’: colour prints of the Northern Lights above Cambridge from 1847, and Mary Paley Marshall’s watercolours
  • ‘The ripe fruits in the garden’: a selection of fruit illustrations, and two Elizabethan gardening manuals in their original bindings.
  • ‘Each little flower that opens’: flowers and plants, including Florence Strudwick’s hand-drawn botanical illustrations.
  • ‘Each little bird that sings’: ornithology, ranging from parrots to magpies.
  • ‘All things wise and wonderful’: a collection of ‘herbals’ - a sort of medical textbook which described natural remedies and the uses and features of plants and flowers.





We collected a long-list of between 5-15 books for each category, aiming for a variety of material, from the Elizabethan era to the present day. Many of the titles we found were part of a series (a series of around 30 in some cases!) so it was important not to rely too much on one author or illustrator, beautiful as many of them were.


 

Assembling the exhibition

The main hurdle we overcame when it actually came to putting the material into the cases was that we had far too much of it! The bird section in particular had to be drastically rethought, because we had such a wide range of books to choose from, and a lot of them are too large to actually fit on the shelf. I had to sacrifice displaying some of the more flamboyant birds (the cockatoo didn’t make the cut, sadly) because I wanted to not only exhibit a range of species, but also a range of books from different eras, to see how the arts of illustration and printing had developed over the ages. A lot of our zoological collections date from the mid-to-late 1800’s, so I tried not to rely on them too heavily (the cockatoo was replaced by a peacock from 1789).

Another difficulty was choosing which page to actually open the book on. There are so many illustrations packed into one volume that often you wanted to display several from the same book, which of course isn’t possible! This was particularly tricky with Benjamin Maund’s The Fruitist, which contains 70 incredibly detailed hand-coloured engravings of fruits grown in British gardens in the early 1800’s, many of which are almost photographic in nature.

The Bellegarde Peach, taken from Benjamin Maund's The Fruitist: a treatise on orchard and garden fruits, 1852.

Once we’d decided upon a page, we used one of three methods to hold the books in place. The first is the most common, and widely used across libraries, archives and museum exhibitions. We use a type of clear strip made out of archival quality polyester, which is non-acidic and anti-static, so it doesn’t draw dust towards the paper. A length of this strip is wrapped around each half of the book, and fastened at the back with a small piece of double sided tape. 

For heavier or more delicate books, we use a foam support block or a polystyrene-filled pillow, which supports the end boards of the book and doesn’t put stress on the spine, which is often damaged in historic books. The final way of supporting a book is to lie it open with the help of a ‘snake weight’, which is a line of small weights sewn into a long tube of fabric, which are just heavy enough to hold the pages in place.

Once the books and loose pages were arranged in the display cabinets, the next stage was to write captions for all the material. Each caption provides the name of the author/artist, title, publication information and date for each book as the bare minimum, as well as a small description or history of the item and the individual who donated the piece, where possible. I really enjoyed researching and writing the back story for each artefact – when it came to the college, who it had been owned by, and why it was of special significance as a rare book. Of particular interest were the captions for Mary Paley Marshall’s watercolours of Guernsey, and Florence Strudwick’s botanical drawings. Both women studied at Newnham within the first 30 years of it being founded and it’s incredible to think that they walked through the same gardens and slept in the same rooms over 100 years ago, and yet their watercolours are still as vividly pigmented as if they were painted yesterday.


A small selection of Mary Paley Marshall's watercolours, some of which are depictions of Rocquaine Bay on the island of Guernsey.


My favourite item, without doubt, however is our book of pressed flowers collected on an Arctic expedition in 1836, by Sir James Clark Ross. Granted, they are now a little brown around the edges (as is to be expected!), but to think that they have survived in one piece, with petals and leaves intact, for nearly 200 years after travelling back from the West coast of Greenland, is phenomenal, and certainly worth a look. Once I’d deciphered Ross’ handwriting, I chose to open the pages at a specimen of Rock Tripe (latin name Gyrophora proboscidea, or Umbilicaria proboscidea) because of the unusual note which accompanies it: Ross informs us that this was the “only food of Sir John Franklin [a fellow polar explorer] and his party ate” on a previous expedition. I've included a photo of a living specimen of rock tripe next to our pressed specimen... it doesn’t look too appetising, even when it's not 150+ years old!









Ross gifted the book to Lady Fanny Elliot (later Lady Fanny Russell, wife of Prime Minister John Russell) in 1837, and her daughter Lady Agatha Russell bequeathed it to the college in 1933.

Curating the exhibition has been one of my highlights of working at Newnham so far, and I’m really proud of the end result. We are so fortunate to have such a unique collection of primary resources in the library, and those on display really are just the tip of the iceberg. We have rare books in virtually every subject you can think of, and curating them into an exhibition took a lot of time and effort, but was really enjoyable. I could spend all day looking through our collections and never get bored!
The exhibition is still on display in the library and is open to all students, staff and alumnae visiting the college. A few items (including the Arctic flowers) have been temporarily removed because of potential damage from sunlight, but please do ask staff if you’d like to see them, and we will try to arrange something. Even if you study a completely different subject, they are fascinating objects to look at up close, and it makes a great revision break if you’re currently revising in the library! 




Meriel Royal

Graduate Trainee 2013-2014



[1] Natural History Museum. Taxonomy of the Platypus. http://www.nhm.ac.uk/nature-online/species-of-the-day/evolution/ornithorhynchus-anatinus/taxonomy/index.html 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Newnham Printers' Marks: Part 2


 Carrying on from my last post, here is Part 2 of our feature on Newnham Library’s beautiful decorative ceiling, covering the eight remaining printers’ marks. Not sure what a printer’s mark is? Read Part 1 here

A map of Yates Thompson library, taken from a pamphlet written by Henry Yates Thompson in 1908.



6)    ALDUS MANUTIUS. This Venetian printer’s emblem is perhaps one of the most widely recognised in the world, due to its distinctive intertwined dolphin and anchor.  Manutius went on to form the Aldine Press along with Andrea Torresani di Asola and another businessman. The printing house specialised in portable Latin and Greek ‘pocket-sized’ books (known as octavo format) and was responsible for the creation of italic typeface, which allowed more words to be condensed into a smaller face than regular fonts.



7)    CHRISTOPHER PLANTIN. Originally a bookbinder from France, Plantin set up a print shop in Antwerp in 1555. He worked on a large scale and had a vast output with 22 presses in operation in his workshop – many more than was usual for the time. His printer’s mark depicts a compass held by a disembodied hand accompanied by the motto “Labore et Constantia” which means ‘work and perseverance’… an apt motto to inspire any Latin speaking students studying in the library! The outermost point of the compass is said to represent labour, while the stationary point emphasises the importance of consistency and perseverance.



8)    JULYAN NOTARY.  Records show that Notary was born in Brittany, France, but had established himself as a printer in London by around 1500. He tended to print religious and liturgical texts, mostly in Latin. He had close links with Richard Pynson and Wynkyn de Worde, and tended to reprint existing editions of their works, rather than printing original texts. Notary also only printed about one edition per year – not a lot compared to printers such as Plantin. However, he made a decent living out of the business and in 1522/3 his goods were valued at £36, 6s. 8d, which equates to around £25,000.



9)    ANTOINE VÉRARD. Another Parisian, Vérard was a publisher as well as a printer, and “endeavoured to compete with manuscript books, and issued at Paris many fine folios from 1480 to 1530 adorned with colourful woodcuts” (4). He had tastes for highly decorated and vividly illuminated pages, although Yates Thompson dismisses these as “but rude productions” compared to illuminations of the previous century! (5)



10) JOHANN FROBEN. Froben, or Frobenius, was born in Germany in the 1460’s, but worked predominantly in Switzerland. He is known for being a close friend of Erasmus, and subsequently printed many early editions of his works. He also employed the talent of Hans Holbein, famous for painting many of Henry VIII’s court, who was a talented illustrator and illuminator, and who was still in the early stages of his career at the time (Froben would later introduce him to Thomas More, advisor of Henry VIII) Froben’s print mark is also very distinctive – it depicts two crowned serpents weaving around a staff, on top of which a dove sits.



11) ANDREAS DE TORRESANI DE ASOLO. Born in Asola, Northern Italy, in 1451, Torresani learned printing under Nicholas Jenson, and bought Jenson’s printing establishment in Venice after his death. After settling in Venice, his daughter married fellow printer Aldus Manutius in 1505, and Torresani opened the Aldine Press with his new son-in-law and another businessman. Although the name of Aldus Manutius is better known and more commonly associated with the Aldine Press (since he was a scholar and patron of scholars as well as a printer), Henry Yates Thompson believed Torresani to be a far more skilled in his trade, regardless of his lack of classical knowledge,  and valued his workmanship as superior to most other printers. He considered Torresani’s printing of the Latin translation of Aristotle, a volume printed on “the whitest vellum” and beautifully illuminated, as “one of the most magnificent productions of any press”.


12) The ESTIENNE family. Henry Yates Thompson described the Estienne family as “perhaps the most famous family of learned printers ever known”. The printing house was founded in 1500 by Parisian Henri Estienne, and was succeeded by no fewer than 5 generations of Estiennes, and traded continuously until 1664. They certainly win the printers’ prize for longevity! King Francis I took a keen personal interest in the print trade, and was the friend and patron of Robert Estienne, second son of Henri. In 1538 he instructed that Estienne provide a copy of every Greek book he printed to the Royal Library  - effectively founding the first legal deposit library (the Cambridge UL is also one of these!) Their printers’ mark takes the form of three men harvesting the fruit of an olive tree.



 

13) CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. Last but not least, is the emblem of Cambridge University Press, first used in 1601. It depicts a naked woman on a plinth, holding the sun in one hand and a chalice in the other. Underneath reads “Alma Mater Cantibrigia” – which means ‘Bountiful Mother Cambridge’ or ‘Nourishing Mother Cambridge’. The emblem represents the continual sustenance of knowledge and sense of belonging that the University (and indeed its press) provides to its students, past and present. It is accompanied by the university motto: Hinc lucem et pocula sacra, which literally means: [From here] we receive light and sacred draughts – hence the sun and chalice – but is a metaphor for receiving enlightenment and knowledge from the university, and its books! It sits in the domed alcove at the very end of the Yates Thompson library, and is the largest of all the printers’ marks.

 


I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about the history of our library's ceiling… there’s certainly more of a story behind it than first meets the eye.  If you’d like to find out anything else about the history of the library, Henry Yates Thompson, or have any other sort of enquiry please email librarian@newn.cam.ac.uk

Thank you for reading!

Meriel Royal, Graduate Trainee 2013 - 2014




Works consulted:
- H. R. Tedder, ‘Notary, Julian (b. c.1455, d. in or after 1523)’, rev. N. F. Blake, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/20367, accessed 25 Feb 2014] 
- Duggan, Mary. Italian Music Incunabula: Printers and Type. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992.