A lot of the folks who read The Book of Days are book artists, because I am a book artist, and we book artists are a tight knit bunch. We look out for each other and we take care of each other and we support each other’s projects. And for those of us in the book arts who happen to be letterpress printers, today we have another red letter day. It’s not one you’ll find in any calendar, and it was only recently dreamt up by someone involved in the craft. But each 18th of September we printers celebrate Letterpress Appreciation Day, and this is based on one very important measurement: the height of type in the US and the UK, which is always 0.918 inches. That measurement is from the base of the type to the printable surface at the top of it, and it is the same no matter what point size the type: the smallest 4 point type cast in metal to the largest wood type you can think of for printing large posters––all of it measures the same height: 0.918 inches.
Someone a few years back thought it would be a good idea to honor printers and printing on September 18 (9/18) and some of us (ahem, me) have been celebrating this date ever since. If you know a printer, this is a good day to shake his or her hand and to admire what they do. If you are a printer, this is a good day to share what you know.
On this particular Letterpress Appreciation Day, I remember the man who first taught me how to print on an iron handpress: Glenn House. He taught me, and now I teach others. One of the great things about humanity is we take what we know and we pass it on. Glenn House left this world on Sunday. He was a good guy. He liked to say “yes” where others said “no,” and this is something I try to emulate, too. The day we printed at the iron handpress at the University of Alabama, we printed an old poem, an old song, and it went like this:
William Matrimmatoe
He’s a good fisherman.
He catches hens,
Puts them in pens.
Some lay eggs.
Some lay none.
William Matrimmatoe
He’s a good fisherman.
Wire, briar, limber, lock.
Three geese in a flock.
One flew east.
One flew west.
One flew over the cuckoo’s nest.
Wire, briar, limber, lock.
Out goes you, old dirty dish rag, you.
Glenn was one of the quiet superheroes I have known in my life, and so this year, the printing I am doing, with others, is a small way to honor his memory and his legacy. To spend this day printing: well, Glenn would like it like that.
Image: This year’s Letterpress Appreciation Day message of positivity. Printed on the 1890 Wesel Iron Handpress from historic wood types.
Keep doing
thanks
I placed a stone in the garden in memory of Glenn House.
Go for the gusto you super hero you! Teach em well.
It is certainly an art I appreciate. I miss the people who knew how to set type in the presses. And it certainly was a relief to hand them a project. +lw
What a great tradition! I am based in the UK, carrying out a research project on letterpress printing within book arts practice: so inspired by this I am going to organise a yearly event to bring people together to share celebrate Letterpress Appreciation Day.
Thank you for your posting and well chosen words about book artists.
Thank you, John,for honoring my friend & colleague Glenn House, on this most appropriate occasion. He taught me printing on the Washington press, the Vandercook, the little Kelsey and the small proofing press. Eventually, we hauled that one over to the Kentuck Craft Festival and established the book arts demo tradition there. That has continued every year since, far as I can tell. I loved Glenn. He was a great friend, a fine artist, a storyteller with that special twinkle in his eye. He collected things. He nurtured kozo plants and made oriental-style paper in the outdoors, all by hand, over a smoking wood fire. We ate many pimento cheese sandwiches together and talked about life and teachiing and making. He was a really good printer, obscured from the spotlight he richly deserved. Somehow, I think he wanted it that way.