Wayzgoose with Us, Virtually

This month’s Convivio Book of Days calendar focused on print and letterpress, and now we come to the days that mark the reason why: It is Bartlemas on the 24th of August (St. Bartholomew’s Day) and on the 28th, it’s St. Augustine’s Day. Printers and brewers both find a patron saint in St. Augustine, but it is St. Bartholomew that brings the most bookish of celebrations, for it is Bartlemas Day that brings the traditional printers’ Wayzgoose… and tonight, here comes ours: Read on for your own invitation to the virtual Library Wayzgoose Festival that I am hosting for Florida Atlantic University Libraries’ Jaffe Center for Book Arts this very evening.

Bartlemas celebrates St. Bartholomew, who is a patron saint of bookbinders… but still, his day is just as important to the other two branches of the book artist’s craft: papermaking and printing––the one sometimes called the Black Art. The Wayzgoose tradition itself comes out of the shifting of the seasons and the recognition that summer, at least here in the Northern Hemisphere, is waning.

Not much is known about St. Bartholomew himself. He was one of the Twelve Disciples. He is thought to have traveled to India, but tradition says that he met his end in Armenia in the first century. His martyrdom was a gruesome one––one that by association made St. Bartholomew a patron saint of butchers (a common trade amongst my paternal ancestors) and of tanners and of bookbinders, who very often bind books in leather. I’ll leave the method of his martyrdom, based on those associations, to your imagination, but early bookbinders found it a worthy connexion, hence his patronage of their craft.

For papermakers, the connexion goes back to the days before glazed glass windows. Back then, it was waxed paper that was used to keep out the elements, and the arrival of Bartlemas was the signal that it was time to paper the windows in preparation for winter. Once this St. Bart’s window paper was made, the papermakers went back to making paper for the printers, clearing out the vats and recharging them with new pulp made from rags that had been retting all summer long.

But it is the printers who really know how to celebrate St. Bartholomew’s Day. Bartlemas, being a full eight weeks past the summer solstice, brings with it each year a certain reality: Sunlight, like summer, is waning, and the days are growing darker and darker. Along with the papering of the windows at Bartlemas came the necessity of illuminating the print shop with lanterns and candles. A good print shop proprietor would make a celebration of the day. Randall Holme, in 1688, gave us this description of the Bartlemas Wayzgoose:  “It is customary for all journeymen to make every year, new paper windows about Bartholomew-tide, at which time the master printer makes them a feast called a Wayzgoose, to which is invited the corrector, founder, smith, ink-maker, &c. who all open their purses and give to the workmen to spend in the tavern or ale-house after the feast. From which time they begin to work by candle light.”

To be sure, there was a good quantity of ale consumed as part of the Wayzgoose. In some places, mead, the delightful intoxicating beverage made from honey, was the beverage of choice. Especially in Cornwall, where a Blessing of the Mead ceremony takes place even today at this time of year. Continuing the road of connexions, our friend St. Bartholomew is also a patron saint of beekeepers, and as we gather our stores for the coming winter, it is traditional, too, to bring in the honey crop on his feast day.

Finally, here’s another bit of Bartlemas Wayzgoose lore that I love: It was on August 27, 2010, that the Jerusalem Post reported that Johannes Gutenberg’s 42-Line Bible, the first book printed from moveable type, was completed on St. Bartholomew’s Day in 1454. Some claim, too, that that first printed book explains why printing has a history of being called the Black Art. They say that Johannes Fust, Gutenberg’s business partner, sold several of the printed bibles in France without explaining how they were made. When it was discovered that the books were identical copies of each other, Fust was accused of witchcraft and was briefly imprisoned for that crime. It was a different world back then, with information spread by rumors. It was the printing press, though, that ushered in an age of knowledge and literacy and enlightenment. Some would say, too, that we have reverted back to those medieval ways: there are those who claim time and time again that the printed word is not to be trusted, calling trusted information sources “fake news,” feeding us their own brand of misinformation through social media, which, when you get right down to it, is just the 21st century equivalent of medieval rumor. Here we are, 566 years after Gutenberg’s first books were printed, and we find ourselves again no wiser than Johannes Fust’s accusers.

One thing is certain: if you are a book artist or if you are a book enthusiast, St. Bartholomew’s Day is a very auspicious day for you. For this Bartlemas Wayzgoose, then, certainly we have cause to celebrate books and the people who make them: the papermakers, the printers, the bookbinders, the book artists. This Bartlemas, let us raise our glasses to St. Bart and to all of these good artisans… and to celebrate the printed word and make a pledge to value its importance to good living and to good citizenship. The Black Art may just be more important than we realized.

Perhaps you can join us tonight? I’d love it if you did. Here’s the official trailer (properly a good bit o’fun) that we created for tonight’s premiere:

I am, by default (I can’t imagine anyone else would’ve done it), your host for this virtual 2020 Library Wayzgoose Festival. The official premiere is at 7:00 PM Eastern Daylight Time, from wherever you are in the world, at the Vimeo Channel of the Jaffe Center for Book Arts. And you may view the Wayzgoose video anytime after that, as well. I’ll be interviewing the delightful Catalina Rojas, the proprietor of Puropapel, a letterpress and design studio in Miami. We’ll have music by the Lubben Brothers, a West Palm Beach folk band of incredibly talented triplet brothers (and someday you’ll see them on a national televised broadcast of the Grammies and say, “Didn’t we see these guys on that Wayzgoose thing?”). And I’ve got some other fun surprises in store for you, too.

L O N G   L I V E   P R I N T !

 

Fifteenth of August

Perhaps it has something to do with working from home during quarantine, with its o-so-regular rhythm, but summer this year really feels like it’s flying by. And somehow here we are already, mid August… and this day, the 15th, brings four important mid August events.

First, the Dog Days of Summer officially end today: Sirius, the Dog Star, leaves its place of summer prominence. I tend to start singing Florence + the Machine’s “Dog Days are Over” about now, and the song tends to stick in my head for days and days this time of year. I picture happiness hitting me like a train on a track and I picture those very blue women beside me as I sing the song each summer. Those blue women remind me of our cat Haden’s veterinarian… and then I picture Dr. Irma Morales as a back up singer for Florence Welch, clapping her hands: one-two/three.

What can I say? My mind drifts and wanders. It has always done this, since I was a boy. And ever since I was a boy, the 15th of August meant a supper of Cucuzza Longa––the long, snake-shaped gourd that we Italians (Southern Italians, anyway) cook up with egg and parsley and grated cheese for the Feast of the Assumption, which also is celebrated this day. My grandmother, Assunta, was born on the Feast of the Assumption in 1898. Her parents naturally named her in honor of the day. The Feast of the Assumption also brings the ancient Italian holiday of Ferragosto. Most Italians, this time of year, will be at the seashore, cooling off. Smart.

And on the other side of the world, in Japan, the 15th of August is the day that Obon is expected to be wrapping up. It is the annual summer festival honoring the dead. Obon is celebrated in July in some prefectures of the country, but most celebrate now, in mid August. There are no set dates, but Obon was expected to begin this year around the 13th, ending tonight, as thousands of illuminated lanterns are set upon the sea. Each lantern sails across the water, carrying the soul of an ancestor who had returned to the land of the living for a brief summer visit, back to their home on the distant shore. It is a sight to behold. Thousands and thousands of lanterns, bound for the horizon, sailing ho, heaving ho.

Image: Lago di Como in the vicinity of Bellagio in Italy… a likely spot for a Ferragosto holiday today. Seth and I were there in the summer of 2019: a very different time, no?

Please save an upcoming date with me! August 24 brings a great celebration with an odd name: it’s the Bartlemas Wayzgoose, and I’ll be hosting the online, virtual Library Wayzgoose Festival for the Jaffe Center for Book Arts at Florida Atlantic University Libraries. It’s a video event full of good stories and great music. The Bartlemas Wayzgoose is an old printers’ celebration that comes about every 24th of August with the waning summer. My guests are Miami letterpress printer Catalina Rojas of Puropapel, and the Lubben Brothers––pretty much the best musicians around these parts. Lots of great Wayzgoose fun is in store for you. The video premiere will be at the Convivio Bookworks Facebook page and at www.jaffecollection.org and at the Jaffe Center’s Vimeo and YouTube channels, too (essentially, we’re making it really hard for you to miss). The premiere is on Bartlemas night, Monday August 24th, at 7 PM Eastern Daylight Time, with video available anytime after that, from wherever you are in the world. I think you’ll really love it. I’ll be posting more about it as Bartlemas approaches, so watch the blog and our social media pages at Instagram and Facebook (@conviviobookworks). –– John

 

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Simple Gifts: Chosen Land

TreeOfLife

Here’s an updated version of a blog post for this day, published originally on the 6th of August, 2015. It is updated for this Covid-19 era and with updates to the roster of Shakers living in this place known as Chosen Land. The rest of the message is just the same, filled with the same spirit. ~ John

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The Sixth of August is an important day for a small group of folks Seth and I know and love in Maine. They call each other brethren and sisters and they respond to questions in the old style yea and nay. They are the Shakers of Sabbathday Lake and there are three of them, currently: Brother Arnold, Sister June, and Brother Andrew.

August 6 marks the anniversary of the arrival of Shaker founder Mother Ann Lee in America. It is a day the Shakers call The Glorious Sixth. Mother Ann and a small band of followers left England and came to New York in 1774. Their official name was the United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing, but they were ridiculed for their whirling dances and outsiders began calling them Shaking Quakers, which was meant to be derogatory. They embraced the name and soon began referring to themselves as Shakers. The movement found fertile ground in America and Communities were founded in the 1700s and 1800s throughout New England and New York and west to Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky, and there was even a short-lived southern Community in Florida, up near Kissimmee.

Don’t let the yeas and nays fool you: the Shakers are a progressive bunch. From the start, they stressed equality of the sexes and the races. African Americans (most of them former slaves) were fully equal in their Communities. Shakers then and now refer to God as Mother/Father and women have always held prominent leadership roles. Early Shakers were quick to jump on board with technology, too, and even invented early versions of many tools we use even to this day, like flat brooms, and washing machines. A prominent Shaker motto is “Hands to work, Hearts to God,” a tenet of their belief handed to them by Mother Ann. Technology was useful in helping them make the work they had to do more beautiful, more prayer like. To that end, the things that Shakers made in their Community industries over the years have become known for their exquisite craftsmanship. And there have been many things: furniture, of course, as well as oval boxes, poplar ware, even the culinary herbs and herbal teas they package today (which we offer at the Convivio Bookworks website and which the Sabbathday Lake Shakers have been selling since 1783).

And so today it will most likely be Brother Arnold who prepares a big meal for the Community. Usually friends will gather and join them, but this year, in this time of social distancing, it will be a small and quiet celebration. Perhaps they will eat out on the lawn or in the dining room of the Dwelling House. Come sundown, they will gather up and head across the street, to the 1794 Meetinghouse, a building so beautiful in its simplicity. There are no column supports to interrupt the openness, which gave the early Shakers plenty of room for their ecstatic dancing. The Shakers today do not dance, but still the building inspires. Whenever I am there, I look at the wide plank floor. I think of all the Shakers who whirled and danced on that floor. I look at the beams painted with blueberry milk paint, the original paint from 1794, still blue, still the hue of sky at dusk.

There will be readings and set Shaker songs. One song that is always sung on this night begins At Manchester in England, this blessed fire began / And like a flame in stubble, from house to house it ran…. There will be testimonies from anyone who is moved to speak, followed always by Shaker spirituals inspired by those testimonies. And through it all, despite the lanterns, night will slowly descend on the Meetinghouse and the Community gathered, wending its way, weaving its magic.

Seth and I were there with them only once for this occasion, in 1996, when I was a printing intern with Brother Arnold. And I remember always what happened as the room filled with darkness and lamplight. The women sat on one side of the room and the men on the other, as is the Shaker custom, and in the faces of the sisters and other women across from me, I could discern the faces of Shakers throughout time. We may have entered the Meetinghouse in 1996, but it didn’t seem to remain 1996. Sacred spirit filled that sacred space.

Seth and I will be thinking of our Shaker family tonight as the sun sets, as we do each Sixth of August and so many times through the year. We will think of them and remember this night and our privilege of sharing it with them. The Sabbathday Lake Shakers call their home Chosen Land. To be there is to understand why. Especially on the Sixth of August: it is one night where this title becomes particularly apparent.

Please join Seth and me on Wednesday, August 5 at 3 PM Eastern Daylight Time for a live broadcast of “Book Arts 101: Home Edition” on Facebook Live. Click here for a direct link. Video is available after the live broadcast if you can’t be there at 3. This episode is subtitled “Simple Gifts,” and we’ll be chatting about Shaker craft and our experiences working with the Shakers over the years––me as a printing intern, Seth as a gardener and tour guide. I will no doubt be relating the tale of that August 6 evening in 1996, and we’ll also have some lovely things to show you: Shaker oval boxes, the handmade books we made with Brother Arnold, and probably a few other odds and ends from our collection. There’s a new “Book Arts 101: Home Edition” each Wednesday, by the way. Each episode is an unscripted ramble through the book arts, craft and design… and whatever else drifts through my head at the time. You can watch all the previous episodes here (and future ones, too).

The image above is the most famous of the Shaker gift drawings received from the spirits in the Era of Manifestations: a mid-nineteenth century period of intense Shaker spiritual revival. The drawing is called “The Tree of Life” and it was seen and painted by Sister Hannah Cohoon at City of Peace (the Hancock Shaker Community in Massachusetts) on July 3, 1854.