Material texts – The Bodleian Conveyor

Up close and 3D: photogrammetric models at the Bodleian

John Barrett (Bodleian Imaging Studio and ARCHiOx Project) introduces the Bodleian’s growing collection of photogrammetric models

Explore on: https://sketchfab.com/ARCHiOx/models

Holy Bible; Psalms, 1660-1661, London. Embroidered binding. English, mid-17th century. Blue silk binding, embroidered with silver wire; portrait of Charles II on front board, Catherine of Braganza on back. Broxb. 45.2. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-452-8fbcd617f9bd4e3799bbad8ce7d54add

Since 2022, the aim of ARCHiOx (Analysis and Recording of Cultural Heritage in Oxford) has been to record the three-dimensional surface of items in Bodleian collections. The recordings have demonstrated that the micro-topography of books, manuscripts, printing plates and artworks can tell us a huge amount about who made them, how they were made and about people’s interactions with them since they were made. An imaging system called the Selene, developed by project partner the Factum Foundation, has been used to acquire this 3D data. Using a principle called photometric stereo, the Selene is able to record relief on the surface of an original with a maximum variation in height of around 15-20 millimetres. This makes the Selene well suited for the recording of library and gallery material, where high resolution data is of great benefit and the originals are mostly flat.

Recording a book binding as an object so that every face is captured requires a different approach. While the Selene acquires 3D data through capturing images illuminated from different angles and with the camera in a static position, photogrammetry is a technique which works in the opposite way. A photogrammetric recording is made by photographing an object from multiple angles under even illumination and combining the images into a three-dimensional model. In the case of the books and manuscripts which have so far been captured for the project, each binding has been photographed between 150 to 300 times and the images aligned in software. The resulting recording can be navigated and relit by the end user onscreen, as if turning the original in their hands.

An early 17th century embroidered dos-à-dos binding combining The Whole Booke of Psalms and The New Testament. N.T. Eng. 1630 g. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/nt-eng-1630-g1-8aa0484213814a238fac3480e0e87f6f

A wireframe view of the same volume revealing the polygonal structure which forms the surface of the model.

Rather than moving the camera to capture the book from each position, by mounting the camera on a support and slowly rotating the book on a turntable, a series of captures can be photographed relatively efficiently. Around 30 exposures are made per rotation at intervals of approximately 12-degrees. The camera is then moved up or down and another round of images made until a set of captures are acquired from at least five different heights. An additional two or three rounds of images are made after turning the book over to reveal the edge on which it was previously standing. Depending on the proportions and condition of the volume, the book may be recorded horizontally, vertically, or both. The surface of the resulting model is formed of millions of polygons on to which a texture is projected providing the colour and tone of the original.

In order to maximise accuracy and efficiency, a programmable turntable named the TablePi2 has been used extensively for the photogrammetry of the Bodleian’s books, manuscripts and artworks. This highly efficient programmable turntable synchronises rotation and capture. Using this solution, the bindings of small books can be captured in their entirety in just a few minutes. The processing of the captured images into a 3D model is considerably slower and more complicated.

Thirsis Minnewit – De vrolykee zang-godin, 1690, Amsterdam. Dutch, late 17th century. Four volumes have been bound together back-to-back, in a style known as double ‘dos-à-dos’, in this copy at Bodleian shelfmark Broxb. 1.27. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-127-240b716a1e2a4c28b3746edea02c0956

Preliminary recording of the same volume showing how a small change in the position of the upper board during capture has resulted in an unsuccessful 3D model with missing areas.

While high-resolution surface data from an A5 size original can be recorded using the Selene in less than a minute, the capture, processing and editing involved in creating a photogrammetric model can take several hours. Successful photogrammetry relies on the original not changing in shape during capture. A change in volume of just a couple of millimetres can result in problems similar to the example shown above, where the upper board has moved between exposures. Although a closed book may appear not to change considerably when it is turned either horizontally or vertically, the extent to which the opening of the fore-edge changes can often result in the images not being properly aligned. For this reason, and in cases where the original has been recorded to reveal an opening, the lower edge may have been omitted from recording.

Oeuvres, Jacques le Royer, 1678, Avranches (shelfmark: Broxb. 46.10). This very rare volume of scientific tracts has a functional binding: one cover houses a stylus or gnomon that acts as a sundial. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/broxb-4610-dbd79fe9abe44eab9f688f3766903438

Where beneficial, volumes have been recorded so that both the outside and inside of the boards are shown in the model. A note written by bookseller E. P. Goldschmidt, accompanying the volume shown above, states that this is an example of ‘A rare and extraordinary book printed at a small town in Normandy, preserved in its original binding which in fact comprises astronomical instruments without which no copy can be said to be complete.’ Before being presented to the Bodleian in 1978, this booked belonged to the Broxbourne library, compiled by book collector Albert Ehrman (1890-1969). Ehrman had a particular interest in bookbinding and named his library after his hometown in Hertfordshire. Many of the 3D models created and published by ARCHiOx have been recorded from volumes in the Bodleian’s Broxbourne collection, including the 17^th century embroidered book of Psalms shown at the beginning of this post. This volume features portraits of Charles II and Catherine of Braganza. One of the first photogrammetric recordings to be made at the Bodleian, this model was made under the guidance of Ana Carrasco Huertas, PhD candidate, conservator and archaeologist from the University of Granada.

Dozens of 3D models have since been created and published. Finding solutions for making successful models in an efficient way has involved a great deal of experimentation. A recurring complication which myself and colleague Dylan Schirmacher encounter is in the processing of models captured from bindings bearing matching designs on both boards. Often these have been so perfectly made that even the sophisticated photogrammetry software is unable to detect that the upper and lower boards constitute two separate faces rather than one. The resultant model compiles all of the images to form a single face with four surrounding sides. This is testament to the bookbinders’ skill in duplicating their design.

Auct. T. inf. 1. 10, New Testament, lacking Revelation (‘Codex Ebnerianus’). 12th century, beginning, Byzantine, Constantinople https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/ms-auct-t-inf-1-10-ce1a9803e7d2470484e4451fa2e13252

Reproducing the reflective nature of metallic surfaces is particularly challenging in both conventional photography and in photogrammetry. The incredible silver and ivory binding from the Byzantine, Codex Ebnerianus was photographed from over 300 different angles to produce the model shown above. By selectively masking only the silver parts of the model and applying a metalness mask, the author’s colleague, Dylan Schirmacher has produced a very convincing 3D recreation of the original. Not only is it hoped that this recording will be beneficial to researchers, it will also safeguard this unique and fragile manuscript binding.

[pr.] Shelley g.1, Sophocles, 1809, Oxford. https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/pr-shelley-g1-61a9301b60904911967f0ff6fe8df219

The majority of the volumes selected for photogrammetry have been chosen primarily due to their aesthetic quality. The small volume shown above is an exception, and was recorded because of the intriguing story surrounding its provenance. It was presented to the Library in in 1893 and catalogued by Librarian, E.W.B. Nicholson, as being ‘Found in Shelley’s hand at his death’. The volume was displayed with the caption ‘Shelley’s Sophocles which he had with him when drowned. Presented to the Bodleian Library, Oxford, by Jane, Lady Shelley [The end edge is supposed to show the mark of Shelley’s thumb]’. Whether or not the story is true, there is good evidence to support the claim that volume belonged to Percy Shelley. The Bodleian holds a matching, pocket-sized edition of Aeschylus containing annotations in Shelley’s hand. Had the Sophocles volume not been discovered with Shelley’s body, perhaps it could have been among the volumes salvaged from his boat, the Ariel. What is undeniable is the presence of a thumb-sized indentation on the upper edge of this small, badly water-damaged book.

The reader is invited to explore the Bodleian’s growing collection of photogrammetric models using the following link.

https://sketchfab.com/ARCHiOx/models

This exciting project has been made possible through the generous funding support of the Helen Hamlyn Trust.

John Barrett is Studio Manager and Senior Photographer for Bodleian Imaging Services and ARCHiOx Technical Lead at the Bodleian Libraries

A conversation with Robert Bolick, collector and curator of ‘Books on Books’

Hands holding a print of Trajan's column — Opening a copy of Rutherford Witthus, TRAIANVS: A Folly for Bibliophiles (2023)

by Emilia Osztafi, intern, Bodleian Rare Books section

Robert Bolick has been collecting artists’ books since 2012. His collection ‘Books on Books’ contains over 1200 items: artists’ books, livres d’artistes, altered books, book objects, prints and ephemera. He writes about individual pieces on his blog, books-on-books.com. A selection of over 150 works featured in the recent Bodleian exhibition curated by Robert, Alphabets Alive! (July 2023 to January 2024), and he is donating a large collection to the Bodleian, making artists’ books physically accessible to future readers. These are now being catalogued by the Bodleian Rare Books section.

I am an undergraduate studying English at Wadham College, Oxford, with a growing interest in book history, and currently the summer intern in the Bodleian Rare Books section. Here, I’m getting an insight into what librarians do – the behind-the-scenes of the Bodleian’s Department of Special Collections. It was fascinating to speak to Robert about the themes and implications of his collection.

The phrase ‘Books on Books’ speaks to a fundamental aspect of artists’ books: they interrogate the book. Some pieces play with the material form of books – binding, printing, typography – and the idea of the book. Others respond to text in experimental ways.

Artists’ books present interesting dilemmas for librarians. How do we catalogue a book whose pages have been glued shut? Should a box of cigarettes printed with text be considered a book?

Where a library would organize a collection by author of the text, Robert’s list prioritises the visual artist. Chaucer’s ABC is listed under F for Joyce Francis, the artist of the wood engraving on the title page and paper cover. Many artists’ books, as Robert says, are fundamentally about the relation of text to image, which is not just ‘text versus image’ but perhaps ‘text and image’ or even ‘text drives image’ or, conversely, ‘image drives text’.

What seems to be a simple learning tool for children – the alphabet book – alerts us that letters are not just text, but visual shapes which we must learn to read as text, and speak as sound. Experimenting with alphabets appeals to book artists like Kurt Schwitters, whose Die Scheuche Märchen [The Scare-Crow Fairy Tale] (1925) has letters jump out of their expected places to act out the sounds they might make.

This artist’s book, like many others in Robert’s collection, resembles illustrated children’s books. When I ask whether children should be able to use and enjoy the Books on Books, Robert is surprisingly generous. Although he would be careful giving ‘vigorous’ young readers books that are theoretically unique, he is less concerned when it comes to books in multiples, even limited editions. ‘I’m not too bothered if some of these works are damaged, or altered, in usage.’ This goes for all books, Robert says, even ‘rare books’. We shouldn’t forget that valuable items have indeed been touched, kissed, and doodled in by readers across time.

Protection and conservation are crucial concerns for libraries, as I learnt from my first week in the Bodleian Libraries Rare Books office, where I was tasked with calling up valuable and fragile first edition books to be taken off the open shelves in the University of Oxford’s libraries. Artists’ books often poke fun at the stereotypical collector’s fantasy of a ‘clean copy’, and the attempts of library conservators to keep a book in its original state. Tim Mosely’s The Book of Tears (2014) – a pun on tearing and crying – invites the reader to ‘make a tear in the pages of the book (or if you are a conservator a repair)’ and according to Mosely’s website, the ‘final state of the book is determined by the book’s owner’. A book that will be altered by its readers poses a practical problem for libraries. It also throws a fascinating light on the relationship between the book and the library in our culture.

You can hear more about this theme of libraries and altered books in the recordings of a 2023 symposium on Agrippa: A book of the dead (a ‘self-destructing book’)

In the Bodleian’s hands, items in the Books on Books collection will be available for scholars, teachers, and interested people to experience and enjoy. Reading rooms are, of course, quiet and controlled environments, but Robert finds that the Bodleian reading rooms still maintain some freedom to ‘let a book articulate itself’ by handling it, taking photos, and moving its parts.

Some books are just too large, or contain too many moveable parts, to be read seated in the library. TRAIANVS (2023), by the librarian and book artist Rutherford Witthus, enacts the Column of Trajan in a tall accordion book in a box, which slides open to reveal two secret books bound together and printed with an ABC.

Rutherford Witthus’s TRAIANVS, unfolded on a library seminar table

In response to my probing question as to whether ‘to read’ is the right verb to convey the experience of larger installation pieces, Robert replies, yes. We can even ‘read’ architectural book art like Jeffrey Morin and Steven Ferlauto’s Sacred Space (2003) – a twelve-inch chapel, its glass walls printed with letters of the alphabet. Sacred Space encourages a kind of sacred reading practice, echoing centuries of meditative ritual in churches furnished with stained glass windows and stone carvings, telling scriptural stories. An essential part of ‘reading’ this piece is building the chapel, literally, from its glass panels.

Jeffrey Morin and Steven Ferlauto’s Sacred Space (2003)

A key theme of Books on Books is alterations, which can take different forms. Carving away physical chunks of Tristram Shandy, as Brian Dettmer (2014) does, is not the same as the erasure of words and phrases from pages, as in Jérémie Bennequin’s Erased Proust Writing (2016). Robert believes these artists are ‘saying different things, about the book, about the process of making and unmaking, and the process by which unmaking becomes making.’

Robert writes his blog posts for book artists, interested people, and people who ask him, ‘What do you mean, book art? What do you mean, book artist? What is that?!’ He hopes there will be further exhibitions and displays of his collection in the future, giving us the chance to hover and walk around the pieces, and circulating them beyond the reading room. Meanwhile the works are available for Bodleian Libraries readers (link to Admissions) and for visiting classes (link to CSB).

Artists’ books can be complicated, infused with philosophy and critical theory, and demanding us to decode them. But they are also a way of getting at these ideas, making them visible and real. Towards the end of our conversation, Robert says, ‘I find it really fascinating to grasp an otherwise impenetrable expression in the philosophy of aesthetics by simply looking at some aesthetic object made in response to that expression. “Oh, that’s what you’re trying to say. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”‘

Ulysses meets Casanova

James Joyce, Ulysses (1922) open to title page — James Joyce, Ulysses (London: Egoist Press, 1922). Bodleian Library, Ryder 2

Evi Heinz, Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin

One of the treasures of the Bodleian’s John Ryder collection is a copy of the first British edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses, published in a private limited edition by John Rodker for the Egoist Press in October 1922. An intriguing detail in this volume throws new light on the relationship between the Irish writer’s infamous modernist novel and the contemporary trade in polite erotica.

The Egoist Press’s British edition of Ulysses was printed from the same plates as Sylvia Beach’s earlier Paris edition – a text famously riddled with misprints – and was issued with an eight-page errata sheet. In Ryder 2, this sheet has been bound into the volume and in one place shows a watermark spelling the name ‘Casanova’.

Light through sheet of paper showing watermark: Casanova — Casanova watermark on errata sheet bound in with Ryder 2

This curious watermark has been identified by bibliographical scholar Gerald W. Cloud as belonging to a London-based private press called the ‘Casanova Society’. This publishing venture, also managed by Rodker, issued luxurious limited editions of erotic classics, from the Memoirs of Casanova to the Arabian Nights.

The use of the ‘Casanova’ paper for the Ulysses errata sheets is likely incidental – Rodker, who was engaged in both publishing projects at the same time, may have simply needed some spare paper at short notice and used what he had to hand. Nevertheless, this unexpected material encounter between two very different cultural signifiers is worth exploring further: What can the publications of the Casanova Society tell us about how Joyce’s book fits into the early twentieth-century limited editions market? And how does Ulysses feature in the literary imagination of contemporary readers of polite erotica?

The Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova di Seingalt, trans. by Arthur Machen (London: Casanova Society, 1922-23), 12 vols. Bodleian, Arch. D d.73

Among the Casanova Society titles deposited in the Bodleian collections is a copy of the luxuriously produced 12-volume Memoirs of Giacomo Casanova di Seingalt, printed privately for subscribers between 1922 and 1923. With its gilt edges, quarter-calf binding and fine printing on hand-made paper, this publication tells us something about the level of material excellence that was expected by early twentieth-century collectors.

It also allows us to put into perspective the claims that are sometimes made for the early limited editions of Ulysses as ‘deluxe’ publications. In fact, their less than perfect printing and fragile softcover binding are a far cry from contemporary bibliophile’s editions, such as those issued by the Casanova Society. Ryder 2 is an interesting example of this fragility: the copy appears to have been rebound in leather by a previous owner but is now missing its cover and is held together by a make-shift book sleeve.

Ryder 2, binding and make-shift book sleeve

On a literary level, too, the Casanova Society offers an interesting perspective on Joyce’s novel: Francis MacNamara’s preface to Balzac’s The Physiology of Marriage, printed privately by the Casanova Society in 1925, makes direct mention of Ulysses as a modern successor to the French love literature of the early nineteenth century. Noting that ‘in Joyce’s Ulysses we have the very love that is demanded of a husband, the love of things in all their distasteful reality’ (p. vii), MacNamara presents the Irish writer’s book as a work in the tradition of Stendhal and Balzac, offering an intriguing way of approaching its much discussed ‘obscenity’.

Indeed, it is in this context that the linkage between Ulysses and the Casanova Society offers the most food for thought: both are phenomena of the 1920s that can tell us something about how the book culture of the period negotiated the borders between good taste and bad, literature and obscenity. And the watermark on the Ryder 2 errata sheets – where Ulysses meets Casanova – is a potent symbol of this intriguing cultural conjunction.

Evi Heinz was Sassoon Visiting Fellow at the Bodleian Libraries during October and November 2023

Manuscripts: from skin to page

Rebecca Schleuss, MSt in Modern Languages at University of Oxford, on studying the materials of the book

When you mostly work with editions of texts, it is easy to detach them from their physical containers and forget about their materiality. During an afternoon with Andrew Honey, book conservator at Bodleian Libraries, and Matthew Holford, Tolkien Curator of Medieval Manuscripts at the Bodleian Libraries, we learned that size, material, texture and quality – irrespective of content – can reveal a lot about a manuscript book.

Parchment was used as a writing surface in Europe since the 2nd century, being replaced by paper from the 13^th century onwards. To make parchment, the animal skin of calves, sheep or goats first need to be cleaned of hair and skin. For that the skin is soaked in lime solution to loosen the hair and then scraped first with a blunt knife, then with a sharp knife to remove the rest of the skin.

What differentiates parchment from leather, however, is the following step: the skin gets tensioned onto a frame, called a herse, while still wet and is left to dry. A half-circular lunar knife is used on the stretched skin for further smoothness. Afterwards, sheets are cut out of the parchment to utilise as much of the skin as possible – consequently we encounter some pages with irregular edges, cut from the sides of the skin. A careful observer can at times even detect from which part of the animal’s body the piece is from, making out the contours of the spine or darker coloured arm-pits and leg-pits.

As this is a manual process, accidents happen and the knife can pierce the skin during the production process. The animal also might have had wounds which then create round holes on the parchment, expanding as the skin is stretched; these are known as fly-bites. Their shape and how they are treated by parchment-makers and scribes can reveal when these holes appeared. If it happened during the processing of the skin, then it was mostly sewn together again and the ends are closely aligned.

Scribes wrote around or playfully ornamented extant holes, revealing the care taken to accommodate the various qualities of parchment. As Andrew pointed out, both the parchment-makers and later the scriptorium decided whether and how to hide the faults in the sheet of parchment.

MS. Laud Misc. 439, fols. 35v-36r. The structure of the columns accommodates the hole.

The manuscripts brought along for the session wonderfully illustrated this, containing some insightful examples of irregularities and the methods employed to adapt to them. It made apparent that there was a spectrum to how ‘perfect’ a sheet of parchment needed to be: some flaws were carefully erased, others were acceptable to remain and were incorporated into the layout of the page. The manuscripts also bore testimony to the fact that parchment was valuable.

A parchment manuscript could well contain the hides of a whole herd of animals, making them expensive and precious possessions. Consequently, parchment was reused – as seen in MS Laud. Misc. 306, fols. 72v-73r, where the wide margins are used as ‘quarries’ for small pieces of parchment – and could end up in the most wondrous places (in bindings, as covers of books, in hem of dresses, and saint’s crowns).

Even though paper became the main writing surface – surviving to this day (if we don’t count our Word-documents, which we surely don’t) – parchment continued to be utilised. In the MS Huntington 300 a mixed quire can be found that uses both paper and parchment.

This is written on paper… MS. Huntington 300, fol. 144r

… and this on parchment! MS. Huntington 300, fol. 143v

Re-blogged from the History of the Book blog: read more here….

Codicology in the Weston: A whodunit through the Ages – History of the Book (ox.ac.uk)