calligraphy

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May 2, 2011 — The following information on black ink is from Islamic Calligraphy, by Sheila S. Blair. (Edinburgh University Press, 2006.)

“Two kinds of dark ink were traditionally used in the Islamic lands: carbon-based inks and metal tannate inks. In early Islamic times two different words were used for the two types. Midad, from madda, to stretch out (i.e., the ink), was used for a paint type of ink whose most important ingredient is soot or carbon mixed with oil or plant gums. Hibr, from habbara, to write, referred to an ink that reacts chemically with the support. It was typically made from gallnuts (’afs) and ferrous compounds that produced a dark-brown color.

“In later times the terms midad and hibr were used synonymously, but at least through the eleventh century, each seems to have maintained its specific meaning of either carbon or metal tannate ink. We can deduce this from the treatise on making books, ’Umdat al-kuttab, in which the author Ibn Badis, himself a calligrapher, gives many recipes for preparing ink. His second chapter is devoted to soot inks (midad), generally designated by geographical names (Chinese, Indian, kufic, Persian, etc.). Chapter three, by contrast, describes tannate inks (hibr), generally designated by their appearance (shining, dry, sunny, etc.) or components (acacia gallnut, myrobalam, myrtle, etc.).

“Black ink based on carbon mixed with plant gums had been known since Biblical times and was used by both the Egyptians and the Romans. This type of carbon ink does not penetrate the support. It is water-soluble and erasable with water, partly because of the impenetrable surface of the papyrus on which it was traditionally used. This type of ink was often associated with water. The Koran (18:109) mentions that if the sea were ink (midad) with which to write God’s words, then the sea would dry up faster than the ink would be exhausted. Because of its water solubility, Persian poets evoked the metaphor that on Judgment Day the tears of repentance would wash off the black writing in the Book of Deeds.

“This type of carbon-based ink that adheres only weakly to the surface can be contrasted to the second type of ink based on metal tannates, in which mixtures of metal salts and tannins produce small amounts of acid that penetrate the support surface. The earliest recipes for this type of ink mix metal salts (usually alum or copper sulfates) with carbon-based preparations, probably to improve the adherent qualities. Eventually, extracts of gall were mixed with iron salt to produce the type known as iron-gall ink.

“Like carbon-based ink, iron tannate ink has been known since antiquity. It was used in early Islamic times, particularly on parchment, where it penetrates the surface like dye. Examination of several folios from early parchment copies of the Koran in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris show traces of iron. This type of tannate ink often erodes the surface, and its color is not stable. When used on paper, it produces acids that eventually corrode the surface, as on some of the Geniza documents.

“Eventually the two types of carbon and tannate ink were combined, with one or more elements from one type added to the other. Typically, lampblack was added to iron-gall ink, probably to help stabilize the black color. A sixteenth-century source credits the renowned tenth-century calligrapher Ibn Muqla with this innovation, as with so many others. The terminology also became confused, with midad and hibr used interchangeably. Most recipes were also mixtures. The Safavid chronicler Qadi Ahmad, for example, describes making ink of soot (duda), gum (samgh), vitriol (zak), and gallnut (maz). The Ottomans used soot inks. The most developed formula involves soot, dissolved gum arabic, and distilled water, mixed and ground together. Ottoman calligraphers were also said to have collected the lampblack produced by the oil lamps in the Süleymaniye mosque. This ink was thus considered not only high quality but also efficacious in imparting the mosque’s spiritual blessing (baraka).”

[From: Islamic Calligraphy, by Sheila S. Blair. Published by Edinburgh University Press, 2006. Passage quoted above appears on pages 61-62.]

Apr. 8, 2009 — If you looked closely at the sample of Mercator’s Italic lettering you probably wondered why the m was missing from latinaru[m] and scribendaru[m], and why the n had disappeared from voca[n]t. I was quite puzzled by this myself, but one of my Latinist friends figured it out right away: these words were abbreviated.

However, this didn’t explain why the abbreviation marks — called tituli (sing. titulus) in Latin — also seemed to be missing! Here’s the explanation. (This was another peculiarity of Mercator’s wild flourising.)

The Latin titulus evolved into the modern tilde, used in Spanish and Portuguese, as explained below:

“A tilde is a diacritical mark (˜) placed over the letter n in Spanish to indicate the palatal nasal sound somewhat like /ny/, as in cañon, ‘canyon’ or over a vowel in Portuguese to indicate nasalization, as in , ‘wool’ or pão, ‘bread.’

“The tilde originated as a mark of abbreviation used by medieval European scribes, most often writing in Latin. When scribes wanted to save space or had come to the end of a line without finishing a word, they omitted the final letter of the word and drew a line above the letter after which the letter was omitted. In Latin, this sign of abbreviation was called a titulus, meaning ‘superscription, something written above or outside something else.’ The device was especially used to abbreviate Latin words ending in the consonants n or m. A Latin word like aurum, ‘gold,’ could be abbreviated as aurū, for example, and many scribes also used a curved version of the titulus, as in aurũ. The titulus could also be used within words.”

[From: Spanish Word Histories and Mysteries: English Words That Come from Spanish; page 206. Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2007.]

italic calligraphy, 1540

Mar. 30, 2009 — Can you decipher the three words shown above? They were written in cursive Italic handwriting, nearly five centuries ago, by one of the greatest experts in this hand, Gerardus Mercator. If you need help decoding this loopy Italic cursive, click on the image.

I’ve finished reading Script & Scribble, a new book about the history of handwriting, by Kitty Burns Florey. She gets many of her facts wrong, but for the most part she has nice things to say about traditional American penmanship — that is, until she jumps off the deep end in the final chapter and claims that modern Italic handwriting is far superior to American cursive styles. Her criticisms are presented amateurishly, comparing poor examples of “loopy cursive” with clearly written, semi-cursive Italic, and repeating the clichés and biased opinions of Italic handwriting experts. (Opposing views were not included.)

The real “penmanship wars” lasted for centuries, but this strife ended long ago. Serious penmanship pedagogy, in American schools, was dead and buried by circa 1940–1960 (a bit later in some places), and yet our modern Italic enthusiasts struggle along to this day, like abandoned soldiers on a forgotten island.

They criticize penmanship methods they know little or nothing about, but they never see the inherent flaws and weaknesses of Italic handwriting, of which there are many.

As Charles P. Zaner (1864-1918) emphasized, all handwriting styles have their strengths and weaknesses — therefore it’s silly to get hung up on a particular style, and to belittle other approaches.

sea lion practicing calligraphyDec. 31, 2008 — I was looking around for news concerning one of my favorite nonhuman calligraphers, Jonao, a very talented sea lion, who for the past several years has produced beautiful calligraphy in public demonstrations in celebration of the New Year — but, alas, this master scribe seems to have been replaced at the Hakkeijima Sea Paradise in Yokohama by a younger sea lion named Jackie, shown here practicing for this year’s show.

My websurfing led me somewhat astray (as usual), and eventually to the following video clip of a brilliantly artistic elephant. If you’ve never seen an elephant painting before, get ready for a shock! I’ve seen amazing examples of abstract painting and drawing by elephants, but the following demonstration is almost beyond belief.

You also might want to watch a follow-up video, which gives some background on this pachydermic Picasso.

Dec. 14, 2008 — Here are a few more paintings and drawings by Victor Hugo, some with lettering.

Wikipedia has this to say about Hugo’s artwork:

“Many are not aware that Hugo was almost as prolific in the visual arts as he was in literature, producing more than 4,000 drawings in his lifetime. Originally pursued as a casual hobby, drawing became more important to Hugo shortly before his exile, when he made the decision to stop writing in order to devote himself to politics. Drawing became his exclusive creative outlet during the period 1848-1851.

“He would not hesitate to use his children’s stencils, ink blots, puddles and stains, lace impressions, “pliage” or folding (i.e., Rorschach blots), “grattage” or rubbing, often using the charcoal from matchsticks, or his fingers, instead of pen or brush. Sometimes he would even toss in coffee or soot to get the effects he wanted. It is reported that Hugo often drew with his left hand or without looking at the page, or during Spiritualist séances, in order to access his unconscious mind, a concept only later popularized by Sigmund Freud.”

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