“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.]

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 lã, ‘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.]

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.

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.

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.”

Hugo’s drawings and small paintings run the gamut from “what one might expect” — romantic landscapes, forlorn castles, and such — to astonishingly experimental work, Surrealist or Minimalist in nature, that was far ahead of its time.

Victor Hugo was also a creative lettering artist, as can be seen in some of the images below.

Not if you belong to a calligraphy fight club! Check out the jazzy video.

There’s more fight club info here. “First rule of Calligrafight club is, you do not use writing equipment. No pens, pencils, biros, no paint, no ink, no printouts. You do not use anything that leaves a bit of itself behind when you drag it over a piece of paper.”

A century ago (and in previous centuries) nearly all calligraphers were male. There were many hundreds of professional calligraphers working in the early 20th century (when they were far more numerous than today, of course). The engrosser or “penman” could count on steady employment and good wages. These scribes made up a large, informal guild in the U.S., and held important positions in education, particularly in the business colleges, and worked in business situations, often doubling as bookkeepers. Many also found ready employment in the rapidly expanding world of modern advertising, as expert letterers and graphic designers.

Women were active as teachers of basic penmanship (the Palmer Method, etc.) in the schools, but the larger field of calligraphy and lettering was considered to be generally unsuitable for women — who were therefore, by the circular reasoning of the day, almost always excluded from advanced training in the lettering arts. The doors of opportunity in this area were closed.

Sadly, there were only a tiny number of female scribes, and almost none are known today by name. Here’s a rare advertisement for one of them, Daisy K. Miller, from Lincoln, Kansas. This appeared in A. N. Palmer’s monthly magazine, The American Penman, August, 1912 (just above an ad by one of America’s most famous calligraphers at that time, Frank W. Martin).

There was at least one major exception to the exclusion of female students from lettering-arts training, and that was the Detroit School of Lettering, where women were actively encouraged to apply. In fact, one of their catalogs (1906) had a definite feminist slant:

“Of Special Interest to the Ambitious Woman — Would you become self-supporting? Would you like to enter a field that is uncrowded? If so, you will surely be interested in what follows: Show-card writing is a brand new profession. The work is neat, clean, fascinating and very profitable. It may be done at your own home. No costly tools to purchase, no expensive equipment of any sort. A few brushes — an assortment of watercolors — some cardboard, and your ability, are all that are required. It is a trade that up to this time has not been entered by women. […] Can you think of any good reason why you could not succeed as well as your brother? Surely you have the same intelligence — the same talent — the same common sense. Can you suggest one good reason why the merchant would not be as willing to supply you with work, as he would your brother or husband? We think not. On the contrary, we believe the chances for success in this respect are all in your favor.”

Today most calligraphers work slowly, but a few cutting-edge scribes are once again emphasizing rhythm and speed. See, for example, this short video by Denis Brown on YouTube (2:10).

Writing contraptions like the one below were generally not recommended by serious teachers of penmanship in the 19th century. The only clear road to success was thought to be: personal instruction from experts, lots of practice (hundreds of hours), and youth (start ’em young).

Despite the silliness of this “Chirographic Vibrator” (more like a large “Calligraphic RUBBER BAND” plus hook), mounted on a “Revolving Writing Cabinet” (containing a scroll), the descriptions are fun, so here they are:

Revolving Writing Cabinet

“Contains a full set of copy lines, comprising books 1, 2, and 3 of the Writing Book Series, mounted on a continuous sheet upon Rollers, so adjusted as to exhibit but one line at a time and in regular succession, by simply turning a knob at the side. It is furnished with Compartments for containing Pens, Inkstand, Pencils, Blotter, and Writing Pad, ruled to fit the Copies. It also contains the Chirographic Vibrator for suspending, balancing and vibrating the Hand in writing; a valuable help in acquiring Movement. A valuable PRESENT to any child at any Season. (Patented June 23, 1885.)”

The Chirographic Vibrator

“For imparting the vibratory [= elastic] movements of Penmanship to the Learner and an aid to Pen Holding. Size 7 x 11 inches. (Patented June 23, 1885.) — This device is the result of accumulated experience in teaching penmanship and puts the learner at once on the road to mastery of this valuable art. — It consists of a metal upright standard terminating in a hook not unlike a shepherd’s crook, from which depends a loop of elastic cord, to the end of which is attached a wooden perch, which is grasped in the hand so as to allow the supporting cord to pass between the fingers, while its near end, projecting from the hand, supports the penholder against the side of the forefinger. A second elastic cord may be attached to the base of the standard and the perch, for securing the projective motion known as Muscular. This is a valuable adjunct to every desk, where writing is taught.”

Courtney was a great master of formal calligraphy, in many styles — but his work could also be delightfully strange, casual, and even illegible, when this suited his purpose. (Courtney was way ahead of his time, in this regard.)

Several more examples of these decorated envelopes, all from the year 1908, and many more illustrations of Courtney’s amazing work, can be found in this book: An Elegant Hand: The Golden Age of American Penmanship & Calligraphy.

Today the art of illustrated envelopes is thriving! There’s even an international contest devoted to this art form. Click on winners’ names at bottom of that page, to see some beautiful examples.

Perhaps it seems odd that Soennecken would publish such a complicated diagram, for such a simple and intuitive concept: keep the pen nib at a constant angle, in this case 45 degrees, and the letterforms will flow naturally from the pen. Even beginners will understand, very quickly, that the shape and angle of the pen nib determine the shape of the letters, and vice versa — since this is just common sense — but things quickly become more complicated as the hand moves across the page, and the angle, relative to the writer’s head, appears to change. So a model like this must be kept in mind at all times, at least while the novice is still learning the craft.

However, much simpler models were also used, like Charles Zaner’s elegant little diagram from 1895, published in his book, Zanerian Alphabets, page 5. On this page he noted: “Use Soennecken’s pens, usually No. 1 for first practice.” Also: “Keep the point of the pen at an angle of 45 degrees at all times, until further notified.” (Later in the book he described how other angles should be used, in different situations.)

Skillful calligraphers often vary the width of their strokes in other ways, as well. One technique for creating tapered strokes is to increase and decrease the downward pressure on the nib, so it spreads and contracts, respectively. The Soennecken broad nibs are flexible and snappy — perfect for this. That’s why the famous scribe Henry W. Ellsworth wrote (in 1897) that “very elastic, square-pointed steel pens may be substituted” for broad-edged quill pens (made from feathers). In this regard, these diagrams show only a basic principle of broad-pen calligraphy, and not the more refined techniques that are generally used.

About a century ago, an American calligrapher named James D. Todd (from Salt Lake City, Utah) came up with a wonderful solution for this problem: the alphabetogram.

In an alphabetogram, capitalized words, beginning with each of the 26 letters in alphabetical order, are used to create a brief statement, often aiming for some degree of literary merit. Helper words (few or many) can be used between the main words, for smoothing out the syntax. The letter ‘X’ often stands for ‘Ex-’ — and several other liberties may be taken.

Alphabetograms come in many styles: minimalist (few helper words), backwards (z to a), double (through the alphabet, twice), random (start the sequence with any letter), and lots of others.

Here’s one of James Todd’s most beautiful alphabetograms, called Astronomy:

“Zodiac in Yonder Xpanse reveals Worlds that Vibrate Under The Starry Realms Quite like the Pleiades or Orions Nebula. Much Light Keeps Jupiter In the Heaven’s Gleam. From Every Day Comes Brightness Always.”

Todd published his alphabetograms in magazines dedicated to penmanship and calligraphy (The American Penman, etc.), written out in many different styles.

Here are the first few words of several more of Todd’s alphabetograms:

• War — Armies Blow up Cities and Devastate the Earth in Fighting…
• Arbitration — Arbitration Besets Challenge, Demands Explanation, Frustrates Greed…
• A Merry Christmas — A Bright Christmas Delightful and Enjoyable…
• Instruction — Advise Before Commanding. Don’t Entertain Freely…
• Advancement — Advance By Climbing. Don’t Ever Forget Gumption…
• F. B. Courtney — All-round Brilliant Courtney Dashes off Elegant Flourishes…
• E. W. Bloser — Alas! Bloser of Columbus is Dead. Everyone’s Friend has Gone Home…

Soennecken was advertising these nibs in the U.S., in 1877. [Click on image to see close-up.]

Broad-edged steel nibs became standard lettering tools, starting in the late 1870s, and replaced quill pens to a large degree. However, several prominent scribes continued to use broad-edged quill pens, and broad reed pens, well into the 20th century.

William E. Dennis (1860-1924) wrote about this topic in 1914: “Soennecken pens, turkey quills and reeds are used for text lettering. The best is that which you can use best. Most engrossers use the Soennecken pen, probably because it is easier to obtain, but others think there is nothing like a turkey quill. The trouble is in preparing a quill and keeping it in order.” Then he gave exact directions for curing and cutting these pens, and continued… “There is a knack which comes only by experimenting in making this kind of a pen, but after this knack is acquired and a quill prepared just right, it works like a charm. By using a large turkey quill, well flattened out, a pen can be made a quarter of an inch or more in width, which is much wider than any steel pens are made for such work.” [Studies in Pen Art, by William E. Dennis; page 10.]

Other important calligraphers also preferred broad-edged quill pens. For example, the New Spencerian Compendium of Penmanship (1887), the definitive manual from the Spencerian movement, also had high praise for quill pens: “Steel pens adapted to text are now beginning to be produced of good quality, and are easily obtainable. Still, as the best of them hardly equal those skillfully made from quills, we will give some practical hints for the production of the latter.” [Page 61; emphasis added. Click on image to see close-up.] Here are the accompanying illustrations:

As late as 1897, Henry W. Ellsworth, a major figure who wrote many books on penmanship and calligraphy, still considered broad quill pens preferable to steel nibs. Regarding the German Text style he wrote: “It should be executed with great skill and facility, using a broad pointed pen. Such pens are made from quills of the goose or turkey, the latter being the best.” Ellsworth praised this style of lettering, then added: “German Text originated in the use of the quill pen, and consequently its forms are expressly suited to its production, although very elastic, square-pointed steel pens may be substituted in their absence.” [Theory and Art of Penmanship, 1897; page 223.]

Automatic shading pens were being manufactured in the 1860s. See trademark date, shown here.

The Stoakes automatic pens were patented in 1880. (Thanks to Ginger Meidel for mentioning this.) I found an advertisement from August 1912, in The American Penman, that also points to circa 1880, as the date when Stoakes pens were first made. This ad is by the Newton Automatic Shading Pen Co., Pontiac, Michigan. Here’s some of what it says:

“Over 50 different sizes and styles of Marking, Shading, Plain, Special and Border Pens for all practical Show Card Work, Lettering, Etc. — Accurate lettering is easily and rapidly done with our reliable Automatic Pens and Inks. They are the product of over THIRTY YEARS experimenting along this line, and combine the desirable features of the ORIGINAL ‘J. W. STOAKES’ pens and the ‘FAUST’ pens, both of which are now manufactured by us.”

The word “automatic” in the name originally signified that shades, light and dark areas, and multi-line strokes, were all produced automatically — with single strokes. Later on, however, models that produced broad, even strokes only, were also called “automatic” pens, since they were basically the same pens (except for the marks they made).

Regarding the old story that “Victorians only used pointed pens,” we know that amateur calligraphers (Edward Johnston and others) in late 19th-century England were quite mixed-up about the modern history of broad-edged pens. They imagined (as some people still think today) that the “secret” of broad-edged nibs had been lost to history.

The truth, however, is that high-quality, broad-edged steel pen nibs were readily available in America, and in Europe, beginning in the 1870s.

Friedrich Soennecken began marketing his beautiful broad-edged nibs here in the late 1870s. Gillott, Mitchell, and other manufacturers followed soon after, with their own broad nibs. We know this is true, since there’s so much direct evidence: advertising, writing manuals, patents, and so forth.

Earlier in the 19th century, before broad-edged steel nibs came on the scene, broad-edged quill pens – mainly goose and turkey quills – were absolutely standard issue, for engrossers and their students. This is well documented in writing manuals. (It’s also common sense.)

By the 1880s, in the U.S., most professional calligraphers, and their numerous students, were using broad-edged steel pen nibs, for the styles that required them. Even rank amateurs, among the general public, used these broad-edged writing implements, to some extent, for lettering simple signs, addressing packages, etc.

But some professional scribes never abandoned broad quill pens at all. For example, William E. Dennis (1860-1924), one of America’s greatest calligraphers, used broad quills throughout his long career. You can even see pictures of some of them today, on the web.

Of course Dennis also used steel nibs, brushes, automatic pens, and many other calligraphy tools — whatever was best for the job at hand.

I have several examples of advertising, from the 1890s and later, for these pens. Here’s a small ad for the Stoakes pen, from The American Penman (Sept. 1908):

The earlier pens of this type usually produced shades (automatically) – light and dark areas, and multi-line strokes – but later models sometimes made a single broad stroke only (and so the original meaning of “automatic” was obscured).

Several American calligraphers specialized in automatic pen work. For example, there was Charles A. Faust (born 1860), known as The Automatic Man. Faust was an excellent calligrapher (originally trained as a printer), who sold his own line of automatic pens, special inks for these pens, and related supplies. He also wrote and published books on this topic:

• Compendium of Automatic Pen Lettering & Designs. [Published 1898.]
• Faust’s 75 New Alphabets for Brush, Air Brush, Air Pencil, Relief, Stencil, Marking, Shading, Payzant, Soennecken & Common Pen. [Published c. 1912.]

Automatic shading pens were being manufactured in the 1860s, and perhaps even earlier. I found a box (just an empty box) on eBay for these pens, with a trademark from 1865. Here are some pictures.

This pen had six interchangeable nibs, of different widths and styles, which were inserted in the pen staff, two or three at a time. It could make a huge number of stroke variations, depending on the configuration. Soennecken’s book shows some of these variations, noting that “144 different double strokes, and 504 different triple strokes, can be written.” Each nib could be loaded with a different color ink, and the blank areas of the letters could be filled in later, or left empty.

Soennecken called this pen “The Writing-Instrument” and it wasn’t very big: the total length from tip of nib, to end of pen staff, was exactly 15 cm. (just under 6 inches). “Breveté S.G.D.G.” refers to a French patent, and on the staff is stamped “F. Soennecken – Bonn – Patent”.

Calligraphers used this pen to letter the headings of engrossed documents, for creating small signs, and so forth. It could also be used to make elegant, multi-line borders.

These illustrations are from the 1877 edition of Soennecken’s Methodical Text Book to Round Writing, published by Keuffel & Esser (New York and Chicago).