Tag Archives: quills

Glitterati of 2022

Although it was a slightly depleted group due to Covid, ill health and travel challenges, there was such enthusiasm for the three-day May 2022 ‘Illuminating a Mediæval Miniature’ course. And, as always, only lovely people seem to come on these courses so it was a joy to spend three days in their company. It takes quite a long time to set out all the tools and materials required for making, laying, preparing and gilding gesso, which raises the the gold from the surface of the vellum, cutting quills, preparing vellum, transferring the tracing and painting two miniatures. This image is just the work station for just one person.

This is the third course run since the pandemic, and very careful arrangements are made to allow for this. There are two or three people on long tables and two large rooms are used. In addition a virus extractor is run throughout the course. Naturally, people are often a bit worried that everyone else will be so much better than them, but the course is all about techniques and applying them, and so the results invariably astonish in a good way (!) those taking part.

It is an intensive and often exhausting three days, but seeing what people produce makes up for it all! See the results below.

These are the comments from those on this course, but not necessarily beside each person’s own work:

Oh how wonderful! Just being in this calm lovely space, surrounded by glorious artwork, was marvellous. Watching Patricia paint, measure out ingredients, teach, share her expertise and encourage us all was a masterclass in what exemplary teaching should be.

What a privilege! I have loved every minute and I cannot believe how much I have learned and achieved. It has been wonderful.

Excellent. Patricia is kind and encouraging, and great care and kindness is taken with all arrangements.

All beautifully paced and so encouraging. It makes a lot of difference to have expert demonstrations in person not Zoom, and to be able to ask lots of questions.

Heartily recommended. Everyone comes away having succeeded in producing something to be proud of using exquisite materials most would not usually have access to. Plus – what lovely people!

Wonderful! I did the 1-day course at the British Library and felt compelled to do the 3-day course. The teaching was so focused and clear, but also open and fun.

Very well worth it, I have truly learned something unique and wonderful.

Absolutely spot on – just the right amount of explanation etc including repetition.

Fantastic – would love to do it (yet) again.

I could not have asked for a more fun, fascinating and engaging course; I learned so much.

Down to earth, and crucially delivered with a sense of humour. Wonderfully accommodating of attendees’ skillsets from professional artist to complete novice. This must have been tough to do but Patricia made it look easy. A privilege to have been taught by a leading authority on the subject.

The Fully Qualified Glitterati

Another group of people eager to learn the traditional skills and techniques of mediæval illumination and miniature painting gathered in Kent, UK, in May 2021. This was a group who had planned to take this course in 2020 but the pandemic got in the way, so everyone, including me, was very excited to be able actually to take the course.

Everything is provided on the course, no-one needs to bring anything with them, and it takes quite a while to ensure that all the tools and materials are clean, pencils sharpened, erasers ready to use, and there are no scratches on the burnishers. Those who have been on my courses before will recognise the wet boxes and the dry boxes!

Each participant has their work station set up for them so that all they need is ready to hand; no-one has to share tools etc and wait for someone else to finish using them. There is also plenty of space so those working don’t feel cramped.

After practising applying gold and burnishing to already laid gesso, gesso is made for participants to take home to make more illuminated miniatures, and gesso made earlier is applied to their own choice of miniature. But first everyone cuts their own quill from a swan’s feather to apply the gesso.

Vellum is prepared and the outline traced and transferred to the skin. Gesso is then laid ready for gilding.

Applying real gold leaf changes the pink gesso into what looks like solid gold.

Everyone is delighted with the magical effect, even if some gesso is a little smoother than others. Turning it in the light really does look as if the miniature is illuminated.

After practising painting their miniature everyone sets to painting their ‘proper’ one.

A great deal of concentration is required for this, and while people are busy painting, I explain about the types of skin to use, and also show and talk about the traditional pigments.

Everyone was delighted with their results and said they learned a lot. I hope they continue to do more as they were a very impressive set of illuminations. And no, most people had never done this before, and many had very little painting experience either.

Genuine comments from the course include:

It was great, relaxed but very informative. Lovely day, uninterrupted painting. Perfect. I loved it.

Excellent instructions and I loved how passionate and knowledgeable you are about your subject. I learnt loads and my confidence built up over the duration of the course. I am looking forward to trying my new-found skills at home.

Very enjoyable, very well done. I was very happy with what I managed to achieve all thanks to Patricia.

Everything was very clear and thank you for your individual support on any questions or problems. A wonderful course. Thank you so much!

Really clear instructions, explanations, etc, and brilliant being able to ask as many questions as possible. Had an amazing time, thank you. Will be definitely going home and continuing my painting. I had lost my enjoyment of painting any illuminations as I had just become frustrated not knowing what to do and the techniques needed. Thanks.

Expert teaching of intricate techniques very well explained and demonstrated. The course is very well paced. Enough time to really focus on a good painting.

Brilliant, even for a beginner with no knowledge of the craft. Best course ever – would wish to do another. Experience shines through gently. 10 out of 10.

A model example of thorough preparation, micro and macro management of a complex subject. Delightful outcome of a memorable three days. Bravissimo!

(NB, the comments don’t necessarily match the person creating the miniature!)

****One person on the course had a Dystonic tremor which affects the whole body, and also has MS which affects other parts. Painting the practice piece was done in the afternoon and the hand wasn’t so steady, but painting the best piece started in the morning and they found that ‘with so much concentration, I was hardly shaking. It feels since the course that my self confidence has taken a huge boost as well’.

So don’t think this course isn’t for you if you have no experience. Illumination involves technique, and that is what is taught. And if you, too, have a tremor or a physical challenge, you may well surprise yourself and what you can do in three days!

‘…With Wakened Hands …’

I really like this quotation from D H Lawrence, although I do wish that he hadn’t excluded women – many of whom have wakened hands just like men! However, these were the times and the words resonated so much with me that I wanted to write them out.

As usual, I wrote out the words just as they were and, for the last few months, I’ve been writing quite small, so I cut a swan’s quill to the equivalent of a size 5 Mitchell nib. I knew that I wanted to pop in a couple of flourishes on the top line so introduced these as I was writing the words. Having written the words out in the same script, I then read it through again to consider which phrases had particular meaning for me and wrote them out in small dancing capitals. One of the great things about being a calligrapher is that we all react to words differently, so what I choose to emphasise may not be the same as the next person. For some reason, although I love ‘with wakened hands’ I missed out the ‘with’ in the first write through and then the whole phrase in the second version! What was it about wakened hands that weren’t going through my brain?

I then photocopied the page and cut the text into strips for each line, breaking the text where it fitted my proposed design and allowing for the sense and flow of the words. The advantage of doing this is that when writing things out in rough usually I am much more relaxed and it doesn’t matter if I make a mistake as I can just write in the word or phrase again as can be seen; this means that the text isn’t tight and cramped as it may be when first writing on the prepared surface and on lines carefully measured and drawn. I marked the mid point of each line and placed them in order on a white piece of paper at about the best distance between the lines. I also numbered the lines (very important to ensure that the lines don’t get mixed up!).

I then used two L-shaped pieces of card and slid them up and down and in and out to set the margins of the piece which meant that I could cut a piece of vellum to this size and then prepared it for writing. I used a set of compasses to measure out the distance between the lines with pin pricks, and then ruled horizontal guidelines and also a vertical line indicating the centre.

I loved the green colour of oxide of chromium so I mixed up this Schmincke Calligraphy Gouache to the consistency of thin, runny cream and used a piece of magic tape that I’d taken some of the ‘tack’ off by pressing it again and again on my finger to attach the photocopied strip of the first line above where I was to write, lining up the centre point. Having the text just above where I was to write meant that it was much simpler to ensure that the words were spelled correctly and written in the right place so that the lines were centred.

So the text was written and now for the painting.

I really enjoyed painting squirrels on a recent piece so I decided to paint some more. Previously I had painted squirrels on grass. This time I thought I’d paint them in autumn on a bed of leaves, so I looked up images of red squirrels online and chose three in different poses for the top. I used a 000 Kolinsky sable brush (I prefer da Vinci brushes from Cornelissen and Son in London as they are such good quality) with watercolour and a strong magnifying glass – they were only about 10 mm tall! For the bed of leaves I used dilute light red and ochre to paint a wash, and then a darker brown to paint the leaves themselves – half of it is done in this enlargement.

At the bottom, I decided to use different images of squirrels on a dead tree trunk including a baby. I am on a campaign to get calligraphers to ensure that their work can be identified in the future by putting their names or their known cipher on their work. Here I wrote my name as small as I could in the same red colour underneath the leaves. And now the piece was finished!

No roses for Christmas

Each year I try to find something a little different for our Christmas card, and the Shakespeare quotation of ‘At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May’s new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows’, from Love’s Labours Lost, seemed rather apt. I so enjoyed writing and painting the card I did a couple of years ago where I used the words of the first verse of the ‘Holly and the Ivy’ carol, writing round an oval and then painting holly and ivy in the centre as here, that I thought I’d do something similar again.

I sketched an oval and made a first attempt to see if the words fitted. Interestingly, the number of letters was about the same as the Holly and Ivy card so I knew it had to work. As before, I wanted the first line to go across the top of the oval rather than starting at the top middle. The first attempt here almost worked, but I started too high up on the left hand side, which meant that it didn’t balance on the right. I tried once more and finally I had it about right.

So I prepared the vellum, sketched on an oval, and got ready to write. I do wish that I could just keep things simple – but no! Writing in a circle, spiral or in an oval shape is always a challenge. The substrate has to be continually turned so that the letters are upright compared to the baseline and it’s very difficult to develop any rhythm and flow. And now I’m thinking, bearing in mind all of the above, why did I decide to write in not one, not two, but three colours? I thought the lettering would look good in oxide of chromium green (a really lovely colour to write with – the Schmincke Calligraphy Gouache version is so smooth), madder red and vermilion but this additional challenge was one whereby each individual stroke had to be considered in terms of the colour that was used before, and the colours were changed even in single strokes. I held the brushes apart in my left hand and simply stroked the quill nib gently on the paint to pick up the smallest amount of appropriate colour before writing.

But it was so lovely writing on vellum that even these challenges couldn’t put me off! Yet again authors don’t always consider calligraphers! Why didn’t Shakespeare know that at some point a few hundred years later I would want to flourish his words when written round an oval? Fortunately the two stretches of words without ascenders from ‘wish’ to ‘fangled’ on the right, and from ‘that’ to ‘Christmas’ on the left, fell sort of evenly either side of the oval, so there weren’t loads of extended strokes on one side and few on the other, and the two areas with no flourishes balanced out. Some of you may also notice that in concentrating on the writing and colours being fed into the pen I got a little short on space and so had to drop the ‘e’ from ‘fangl’d’. I reckoned that this was something that Shakespeare may well have done so didn’t feel too badly about it!

Then it was on to the rose painting. I had taken some photographs of the last roses of summer from our garden, and although it’s always better to paint from life, doing this in November meant that there were no decent roses left to paint! Here I’m two down and three to go. (The colours here are slightly different because I took this photograph in the evening under artificial light – I was working long hours on this!)

And again the finished piece with the three colours blended in places in the text picked up by the different reds and greens in the paintings. The darker areas on the right are wear the unstretched vellum has dipped. It seemed to turn out reasonably well despite this.

Quills and Calligraphy

Sixteen eager students were ready to start a day of learning and practising calligraphy as part of the events associated with the fantastic Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms 2018-2019 exhibition at the British Library. We were focusing on the Angled-Pen Uncials as in the St Cuthbert Gospel of St John, a very pleasing writing style, and which has only majuscules, or capital letters.

Everything was set out before the students arrived with a sloping board, pen and nib, ink, etc and sets of A3 information and exemplar sheets so that no ruling lines was necessary while learning.

The morning was spent learning and practising the letters and then the afternoon focused on quill cutting and preparing and writing on vellum. Cutting quills was a lot tougher than it looked – the barrels of swans’ feather are really strong!

It does take some preparation, but once the steps are clearly explained and reinforced to everyone as they cut the feathers, really good quills resulted.

Then it was on to preparing the vellum, practising writing names using the quill and then, with a deep breath, writing on the vellum itself. I suggested using Schmincke Calligraphy Gouache in vermilion as a contrast for the initial letter and this worked really well. The results needed to be admired even halfway through the writing!

And the concentration here was intense!

But the results were very much worthwhile! Congratulations to all students for such a successful day – and for being such a lovely group to worth with.

How Mediæval Manuscripts were Made

It really was a great joy and privilege to be part of the great Polonsky Project, which was a joint venture between the British Library and the Bibliotèque nationale in Paris to digitise manuscripts which from before the year 1100. They were keen to show how those manuscripts were made, and so it was on two very hot days in the summer of 2017 that Dr Alison Ray, filmer Jan and I spent many hours recording those processes. The films are now on the British Library’s and the Bibliotèque nationale’s websites (the latter being dubbed into French) and sections of the films were also used in the fantastic 2017–2018 Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms exhibition at the British Library.

The first film features the pen used for the writing, which, of course, was usually a quill cut from the feather of a large bird. I always use penknives which have curved blades as the curve rolls over the slight curve in the barrel of a feather to cut the nib tip, whereas a straight blade tends to squash the feather. Indeed, penknives today (the clue is in the name!) still always have a curved blade. Here’s the link. There’s more on quill knives and how to cut a quill on my website on this link.

Ink was usually made from oak galls, although in fact peach, cherry and apricot stones can also be used but give a less dense colour. It’s the tannic acid from the galls reacting to copperas (iron sulphate) that creates a dark liquid, and which needs an adhesive, in this case gum Arabic, to ensure that it adheres to the writing surface. To see the process, click here.

The writing surface was vellum or parchment – calfskin, sheepskin, goatskin or ever deer on occasion. In this clip I explain about the differences between the hair and flesh sides of vellum and also the qualities of other types of skin. More here.

Having cut pieces of skin to size for writing, the page needed to be set out, and often dividers – similar to sets of compasses, but with a point at the end of each leg – were used as it was easier to mark the exact positions of the guidelines in this way. On occasion, the lines would be set out using a ruler and lead point (or similar) and then the positions marked using the tip of a knife (perhaps a penknife). Here the ‘point’ would actually be a triangle shape and this can be seen in some manuscripts. There’s more on setting out a manuscript page here.

Pigments used in illuminations came from animal, vegetable and mineral sources. Perhaps the most famous is ultramarine, as Cennini Cennino called it ‘perfect, beyond all other colours’. A very similar blue, but much cheaper was citramarine. Woad and indigo are from vegetable sources along with madder. And Tyrian purple and carmine came from animals. There’s more on this link, including dragon’s blood!

These pigments have no natural adhesive (apart from saffron interestingly!) and so this needs to be added. Traditional either glair, the egg white or the egg yolk was added. This film clip explains the process, including the equivalent of a hole in one! It can be tricky removing the egg yolk from the egg sac, but when this was being filmed, it worked with the very first egg! Here it is with the knife being withdrawn and the yolk falling out at the bottom. See the whole thing and more here.

And having got everything ready, it was then only the setting out the illumination, laying the gesso, applying gold and then painting bringing everything to life and with wonderful colour. Watch the process here.

It is hoped that these short films will add to the knowledge and understanding of these historical craft processes and ensure that more people understand and appreciate the skills that went in to creating the wonderful manuscripts now in great collections such as those at the British Library and the Bibliotèque nationale.

Illuminating a miniature

Another group of lovely people started the day early at the end of May 2018 to spend three days learning the traditional skills and techniques of the mediæval illuminator. Usually the group is limited to eight, but someone was coming from the Middle East and so the group was actually nine – it still allowed for intensive personal tuition.

Everything is supplied and work stations are set up for each individual.

We focused on gesso first, gilding gesso which had already been laid for practice of the techniques, then making gesso and considering the role of each constituent ingredient. Gesso had already been made for the each person to use straightaway, so at the end of the course participants had a good amount of gesso to take home with them to do more miniatures.

Gesso is best laid with a quill, so next, the group cut their own quills from swan feathers. Everyone did very well with sharp quill knives cutting good quills which they took home with them after laying their gesso.

Then it was on to laying gesso on vellum.

The next morning, gold leaf was laid on the carefully prepared gesso.

This is highly skilled and takes some time.

Before painting the ‘best’ piece, another miniature was gilded and painted as a practice piece. This meant that the final miniature was as good as it could be.

Adding colour to the gold really brings the image alive.

Everyone went home with two miniatures on vellum, the practice one and the carefully gilded and painted best piece.

Comments from the group:

It has been the best course I have been on so far, not only for the quality of the course but for your immense kindness and generosity.

You are a very generous teacher. I feel that I have learnt a lot. Everything was very clear and to the point, and you were very kind to answer all the questions with more detail than I expected.

I am very pleased that I could come on this course and would love to follow it up with another!

Excellent! Would do it all over again without a second thought! Natural talent in teaching! Thank you so much.

An amazing experience – moments to cherish. Left feeling very motivated and very relaxed after 3 days of total absorption in another world.

Detailed, clear and very supportive teaching. Fantastic to hear so much of the background without it being a lecture.

SUPERB! The best possible introduction to these arts – miniatures and gilding – and the practical support makes this course EXCEPTIONAL!

I loved how any question, even ones with minimal relation to the course content, were welcome and thorough explanations or commentary were given. Support, even if the results were less than what we’d envisioned, was enthusiastic and honest, but left us with hope for future efforts.

FABULOUS COURSE – will highly recommend this to my students.

It has been fantastic to learn so much about the skills needed and how to create illuminated artworks. Would highly recommend courses with Patricia.

Quills and Quill Knives

An unusual quill knife in a manuscript image on Twitter made me look again at quill knives. This one had the necessary curved blade (don’t get me started on straight edges for cutting quills!) but a strange curved hook shape which seems to end in a point. I’ve really thought about why this shape of knife was developed and can’t see any real advantages for it over what I would call a ‘normal’ quill knife as below. It would be really difficult to sharpen that inner curved edge, so what would a dull inner curved blade be used for. Has anyone got any suggestions?

This is a trusty quill knife which I use when being filmed cutting quills. The shape of the handle sits really well in the hand, but for me the blade is rather too long and the lower part of the blade (the bolster or shank) should have been inserted more into the handle for better control. The blade is of steel, but not stainless steel, so there is some rust. Some years ago I was told that it wasn’t possible to get a good sharp edge on stainless steel, but according to Robin Wood MBE, who knows a thing or two about blades, modern stainless steels are much improved and these are what he uses for his tools and axes so they must be good.

So what’s important about a quill knife? First that it has a good handle that sits well and is comfortable in the hand; it is also important that it is substantial. I teach quill cutting as part of some of my Calligraphy courses, and in the three-day Painting a Mediæval Miniature course I run at the end of May each year. For these I use X-Acto knives (see image) which have good solid handles. They are sold with a pointed blade, but I buy curved blades and replace the pointed blade with these. In my opinion it is easier to replace a curved blade when it dulls for quill cutting than sharpening 16 knives! (And the blades aren’t wasted as they are then used for scraping mistakes from vellum, and then for cutting vellum and paper. And at the very end of their life, they’re used to sharpen pencils!). I would never cut quills with scalpels because the barrel of a quill is tough and a scalpel can so easily turn in the hand; having control of a razor sharp blade is paramount in my opinion!

Then the blade itself. First it needs to be reasonably short. There is strength in a more stubby blade that isn’t there in a longer, perhaps more flexible blade. And because cutting a quill requires only a short section of the blade, a knife with a longer blade where the whole edge slices isn’t necessary.

So how to cut a quill? If you want to see how it’s done then it’s all explained in my Illumination book and associated DVD (see here for details). The feathers used are the first five flight feathers of large birds. The differences between the first five flight feathers are explained in the book and DVD.

Once the feather is hardened, it is prepared and the nib then shaped.The first step here is making the long scoop cut.

Then the sides of the nib are shaped.

The long tip is trimmed to a manageable length.

And finally the end of the nib is shaped to make a quill that writes.

Quill knife, courtesy of Alan Cole, © Museum of Writing, University of London

All modern pen knives – and the clue is in the name – have a curved blade. I’m not getting into ‘quill knife wars’, but every part of logic leads to the blade being curved so that it can ‘rock’ over the similarly curved end of the barrel of the feather when trimming the nib tip without splitting it. I do appreciate that there are those who swear by a straight blade, and these are sold on many websites, but it’s a curve for me and my students!

The images of historical quill knives have kindly been provided by Alan Cole of the University of London’s Museum of Writing to whom I am very grateful.

There is an excellent pictorial history of the shapes of pen knives from the early 8th century to 1698 produced by Michael Finlay in ‘Western Writing Implements in the Age of the Quill Pen’ (Carlisle, UK, Plains Books, 1990) and reproduced here. (Thank you to Alexander Devine of the Parker Library for kindly sending this to me.)

So what would an ideal quill knife look like? For me it would have a short, slim, razor-sharp curved blade (the curve being on the outer edge of the blade), the blade should be inserted well into the handle, and that handle have a heft that sits well in the hand. An additional refinement for me would be the insertion somewhere on the handle of a crochet hook, perhaps pulling out in a way similar to a modern pen knife attachment. The crochet hook catches on to the membrane inside the barrel of the feather and is used to pull the membrane out. If the membrane isn’t removed it gets in the way of writing the letter-forms.

Classes of children were often large in the past, and until machine-made pen nibs were adopted in schools in the 19th century, one of the tedious jobs of a school teacher was to cut and trim the quills of the pupils in their classes. With often more than 40 students per class, a great deal of time would be attending to pens. What a boon it must have been when the quill cutter was invented, however, these were used almost invariably to cut a feather tip only into a point for Copperplate-type writing, To write letter-forms shaped by a broad-edged nib, it was back to the quill knife. This is a quill cutter with a curved blade to trim the quill, and then the part that cuts the quill and makes the slit is at the top.

Writing with a quill is magical – it is, literally, feather-light – and it becomes almost an extension of the arm. The downside, of course, is that the quill needs to be trimmed about every paragraph, and then recut eventually.

Patricia Lovett: Exhibition at Sevenoaks Library 2017

I was delighted and honoured to be invited by Sevenoaks Museum to put on a small exhibition of my work at Sevenoaks Library. It is small because there are but two shelves in a display case. However, I was thrilled when Lord Sackville kindly came to see a piece I had done on stretched calfskin vellum with leaf gold on gesso of the Sackville family coat of arms which is on display (Photo kindly taken by Roger Lee).

Because there is restricted room, many of the pieces are small, and these certainly are! Two dice, about an inch long on each side. Here’s more about them in a previous post.

This piece came about in a way because of a large new Roll of Honour I had been asked to do by Plaxtol village, more details here. I loved painting the cob nuts and hops at the base of this panel and did this again to decorate this poem by Poet Laureate Andrew Motion.

Many subscribers to my free online monthly newsletter will know that I love using colour in a pen. This is what I did here, combining red and blue, to indicate the two people in this piece, one finding ‘in this shadowland of life one true heart’ and the other being that true heart. Those phrases that I found particularly poignant, I wrote in one colour and added shell gold background to the letters (powdered gold in gum Arabic base) for emphasis.

This butterfly and caterpillar piece is on stretched calfskin vellum, with the writing in shell gold. The caterpillar, feeling that its world is at an end, is sheltering under the shape of a hill, whereas the butterfly, which the caterpillar turns into when that world doesn’t end, is flying free from a valley-shape.

I know that some people may think this a little weird, but I had wanted to make a flagellum since I saw one on display in the British Library. Flagella were often used during Lent to ‘beat’ the devil out of a sinner’s body, the strips of the flagellum having biblical texts written on them. This seemed rather archaic, but I do hate the way business-speak contorts the English language.

So I wrote out all those phrases and words which I find so annoying – faux=fake, compact=small, I hear what you say=I’m not actually listening, economical with the truth=lying etc. and figured that these were beating the living daylights out of the language we love! With Chinese stick ink and vermilion ink on strips of vellum, with the phrases separated by gold leaf dots on gesso, it seems a fitting combination of new words and old techniques. here‘s more.

This is a simple copy of David as Psalmist from the Westminster Psalter.

And this one I wrote about recently in a blogpost – again combining colours in the pen as I write, ‘controlled random’ writing. It is a verse from Rabindranath Tagore’s poem Gift, and worth reading in full. More about it here.

Eadui Basan – Edwin the Fat or Parchment?

Eadui Basan was a monk who worked from Canterbury in Kent during the earlier part of the eleventh century, and his distinctive hand has been identified in a number of manuscripts. One of the ones I particular like is that of the Eadui Psalter, on the right. The whole page is united by the arched and pillared frame, yet divided by two lower arches. The hand of God holding a scroll with text is giving a blessing at the top, and blue lines indicate the heavens. Within the right-hand lower arch the monks of the foundation are shown in outline. This wasn’t because the artist ran out of ink or time, but it was the stye to colour people in outline only as they weren’t worthy of full-colour painting. In the left-hand arch sits St Benedict, and around his halo is written in Latin ‘St Benedict Father of the Monastery’. The saint sits resplendent in full colour, his hands open in blessing, with lots of gold leaf. At his feet is a small, kneeling figure grasping the feet of St Benedict and holding a book, again in full colour. There is no halo or other indication of sainthood so we must presume that he isn’t; around his waist is a belt on which is written ‘zone of humility’, and yet he is in full colour! It has been presumed that this is in fact the scribe of the book – Eadui Basan.

Eadui also worked on the Harley Psalter, another fascinating book (though what mediæval manuscript isn’t?), and the Grimbald Gospels, on the right. This shows his wonderfully clear script, and stunning gilded initials. Many will be familiar with the rounded letter-forms of Caroline Minuscule, which have a low x-height – often of only 3 nib widths – long ascenders and descenders, and a distinctly forward slant. A little later in time and across the English Channel, scribes slightly extended the x-height to 4 nib widths, but reduced the ascenders and descenders; they also made it more upright. Examples of English Caroline Minuscule are in the British Library’s Ramsey Psalter (Harley 2904) written in the last quarter of the tenth century. Some decades later, Eadui Basan takes this hand and runs with it. He forms letters based on an oval letter o, rather than a round one, and extends the ascenders and descenders creating the most wonderfully fluid writing style.

Another impressive book is the Corpus Christi Pontifical, right. A pontifical is a book of instructions for a bishop or archbishop including details on how to consecrate a church, ordinate a bishop, and even how to conduct a coronation. It is just possible that this book was used by Stigand, the Archbishop of Canterbury to crown Harold Hardrada in 1066 and also Ealdred, Archbishop of York for William the Conqueror. The characteristic regular and rhythmic script contrasts with the coloured Versal initials. It is a most pleasing book and one of the gems at the Parker Library. It has been conserved and re-bound in recent years in the most vibrant red leather, how appropriate for a Pontifical!

In the Eadui Codex, now in Hanover, we even have his ‘signature’, which is the coloured paragraph in the middle of the page right (and enlarged below): Pro scriptore precem ne tempnas fundere pater. Librum istum monachus scripsit EADUUIUS cognomento BASAN. Sit illi longa salus. Vale seruus dei .N. & memor esto mei (which has been translated as: Father do not neglect to say a prayer for the scribe. The monk who wrote this book EADUUIS second-named BASAN. Let there be to him long health. Good Health to the servant of God .N. and be mindful of me).

So was he ‘fat ‘or was he ‘parchment’? I always understood that the Old English translation of ‘basan’ was ‘fat’ as in David Dumville’s English Caroline Script and Monastic History. Studies in Benedictism, AD 950–1030. However a paper by Tracey-Anne Cooper has looked at the ‘surname’ and does not refer to the Old English translation but suggests instead a Latin one. She thinks that it could refer to the substrate used by Eadui for his books, and that ‘basan’ or ‘bazan’ or ‘bazin’ means ‘sheep-skin tanned in oak- or larch-bark’. Without wishing to split hairs, I would think that, with the craft processes so much more a part of their daily lives than now, those naming Eadui would be fully aware that the skins for parchment or vellum aren’t tanned as are those for bookbinding, shoes, bags or clothes, but treated in a completely different way. Yet another example of mediæval manuscripts sometimes presenting more questions than they answer!

Patricia Lovett MBE

Calligraphy | Illumination | Design