lundi 9 avril 2012

Redbirds

Things seem to have begun panning out. At the beginning of March, while at a weekly scout meet, I was speaking with a few other leaders, when somehow, my calligraphy came up. It may well have been me, saying "have you seen my calligraphy?" (Yes, I know. Very subtle.) One of the leaders turned to me, and asked if I'd consider doing a project for her mother's 75th birthday. And, here's the clincher, I'd be paid for it. Of course, I said yes. A) I get remunerated for a project, and B) word of what I do spreads. Wonderful. By the end of March, we've finalized on the design that will be used, the text, the greeting. (The style of calligraphy, as well as the layout for the project itself, would be left up to me.)

I then started mentally planning the project. All this really means is that I spent a week thinking "I really should get started on that project." I really should get into the habit of drawing rough sketches of what I'm planning. Perhaps that way I'd have less surprises when I actually start.

In retrospect, it was a good thing I'd delayed, so that I could do it over Easter weekend (or I'm rationalizing. Probably rationalizing). Because I was being paid for it (and I had no idea what I should ask for, or expect, so I always brushed it off with "we'll discuss it when I deliver it"), I needed to be able to keep track of how much time was spent working on it, as well as keep from moving it too much, to avoid dog-earing it. One of my main concerns was that at my usual size (11"x14"), with a full frame, there would be very little space for writing, or that the writing would seem to be cramped and tiny, so I opted for a bigger board, which I could subsequently trim to size. However, I have yet to discover all the intricacies of sizing a project from the centre out, and I was trying to figure out a starting point, my mom chimed in with "she's an older lady--she'll have an easier time finding space for a smaller board", which certainly solved that problem. So I had to do it on an 11x14, and work it as best I could.

I was halfway through the first motif (and somewhat horrified at the amount of tracing I would have to do), when I noticed I'd screwed up: There was no way I'd be able to fit a full frame, with writing, so I'd have to cut back on the frame. However, by also starting with the left-hand frame, I'd also ensured that the bottom frame wouldn't fit properly (there wouldn't be sufficient space for two motifs; one motif would be too short; and that one motif would just look like it was stuck on). Off I go to grab another board, draw my edge marks, and start over, with the base first--this allowed the design to look like the base frame was supporting the left-hand frame. Of course, I still managed to screw up just a bit. Instead of starting in the bottom left corner, which would result in a small gap at the ends of both frames, I started in the top-left, meaning that there was no gap in the top-left, but there was one in the bottom-right.

After the tracing, came the "lining" (I'm sure there's a proper term for this, but I don't know what it is), where I go over the pencil with a thin pen. This, to my eye, allows the colours to come out as separate colours, with separate elements, as opposed to blurring together, had the colour been applied directly to the pencil; it gives the colours and elements definition. Once the lining was done (and a coat of fixative applied, so it wouldn't bleed), came the colouring. This part became a bit unusual. My parents had given me a set of coloured pencils for Christmas, but these were watercolour pencils. Meaning that as I sweat over my work (literally), the colours would bleed (I learned this on a project that will be the subject of an upcoming post). So my method turned into touching the sheet as little as possible, and only edge the reds. Then fix. Then fill the reds, then fix. Add the blue, and fix again.


Thankfully the colouring was done, because I was getting a touch loopy from smelling the fixative (I was not sniffing it, but it was in the ambient air...), so I got to take a short break, open the window and let it air, while I went and considered the scribing. A few calculations, and it turned out that instead of nice big letters, these would have to be quite small (of course), but still legible, and the script could still be seen clearly. The longest line, and the greeting, which I tend to do a size bigger (For example, if I write the main body with a 1 mm nib, at three nib-heights=3mm, then the greeting would be 1.5 mm, at 3 nib-heights, 4.5 mm. For those wondering, yes, I use Speedball nibs), still fit in the space allocated, which is one of my main panics at this stage. And to make it more impressive, instead of simply writing it with a right margin, I indented each subsequent verse, giving a descending-stairway appearance, which worked out quite nicely.

I was quite surprised to find that I'd spent 9.5 hours working on this. I didn't think my projects took so long, especially since on many of them, I would also work on them on my lunch breaks. And 9.5 was only the time spent sitting in front of the board. If I included all the time spent looking at various designs, and shortlisting the ones that would be best suited, as well as looking through my scripts, and doing various arithmetic, it would probably be closer to 12...

And here's the technical description! The design is a Palóc apron design from the town of Varsány, in northern Hungary (Palóc embroidery is renowned for its use of red and blue), and the script is in Bâtarde, which, combined features of Gothic script, with French Secretary hands--hence its appellation. It was used in the 15th and 16th centuries.

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