Early exhibitions

A note in the fourth number of the school newspaper, Christmas 1920, records a school exhibition in which were shown ‘rare and beautiful books collected by Warden, including Quala [sic], Kelmscott and Doves Presses’. The sheer depth of artistry and the technical finish of the books from the two latter presses might have been hard to relate to, but the Bembridge boy printers would surely have recognised the Caslon Old Face used by the homelier Cuala Press (of whose books Whitehouse possessed several examples), one of many presses which, like their own, had taken advice from Emery Walker.

The exhibition probably took place in the then newly-built Ruskin Museum. Only the second new building put up by Whitehouse at the school site it is the somewhat squat, white-painted structure immediately to the right inside the school gates. In my day, the mid-1960s, it served as an art room, but it was originally an exhibition room and was the principal such space at Bembridge before the Ruskin Galleries were built as part of New House in the late nineteen-twenties.

Exhibitions were central to Whitehouse’s project at Bembridge, both for their educational value and as a way of linking the school to the local community (hence the building’s position), and in addition to the annual, Foundation Day, show of school work, there were brought in over the years a number of notable exhibitions from outside. Generally, exhibitions were to provide, wherever possible, specific enhancement to the learning environment, being intended ‘to instruct and inspire, with particular regard to the needs of the boys who were definitely associated with the work to which the exhibition related’.

The two earliest exhibitions recorded in the school newspaper appear, however, to have been largely composed of items from Whitehouse’s own collection. As well as other arts and crafts, both included sections of books, and in a diary entry of Oct. 9th 1921, Whitehouse notes a ‘Printers Guild mtg. at the exhibition…at mid-day. We went through specimens of printing from early  times in the history of the art, and examined the books from private presses on view’. Perhaps the participants’ appetite had been whetted by the lecture on the history of printing delivered that spring by one Parsons who had illustrated his talk with reproductions obtained from the British Museum and elsewhere. In the early days at least, Bembridge printers appear to have had ready access to contemporary or historical models of book-making of a high order (and as Whitehouse’s Ruskin collecting gathered pace, there would be examples of manuscript illumination and incunabula from Ruskin’s own library). 

This inspiration, together with developing practical skill, was soon seen to be bearing fruit. By the summer of 1923 the Guild of Printers is boasting that a ‘real monument [to greater technical knowledge] is embodied in the pages of this newspaper – in the care, patience and thought…[given]…in order to make it a worthy example of a great craft’. There are other small tokens of pride: for a few issues beginning that autumn the school shield on the title of the newspaper is printed in red; the Guild note in the summer issue, 1924, records that the workshop has been adorned with a piece of lettering in gold leaf.

Two years later, in the autumn of 1926, we find the Warden addressing the printers’ Guild Tea on the history of printing and showing the assembled company a book of 1507 (this would have been a Book of Hours, printed in Paris), which had belonged to Ruskin. The printers are by now contributing substantially to the annual School Exhibition. ‘The booklets, note paper, programmes and score cards printed by Rendall and Pearce were especially praiseworthy’, notes Muirhead in the summer of 1927 (the pair were made Master Printers that autumn).

The following spring number records an exhibition of ‘Written and Printed Books’ in the Ruskin Museum, which breaks new ground in its scope. ‘The books exhibited included a First Folio [a facsimile], some wonderful early printed books, including a Virgil of great beauty, printed in Venice in the 19th [sic] century, some beautiful modern books by way of contrast’. Examples of the ‘written book’ are reported to have included thirteenth and fourteenth century manuscripts, incorporating fine miniatures and illuminated borders.

It was at this time that, following some correspondence to which he had contributed in the Times Literary Supplement, Whitehouse was moved to make his own, somewhat idiosyncratic, contribution to the then rapidly developing literature of modern book production. At the Guild Tea of December 5th 1929 we find him in vain and generous mood: ‘The Warden at the conclusion of his address presented every member with an autographed copy of his new book, The Craftsmanship of Books’.

During the 1930s two substantial exhibitions of typographical interest were mounted at Bembridge School. There is really no equivalent to them in the later life of the school. The first ran for most of the spring term in 1933. It would appear to have been a much expanded and enlarged restaging of the 1928 show, taking advantage of the splendid new galleries in New House, and doubtless including some of Whitehouse’s new Ruskin acquisitions. It was given an extensive notice in the school newspaper.

The motif underlying this term’s exhibition was the development of books through the ages, with particular reference to printing. In his opening remarks the Warden stressed the fact that no attempt was being made to take sides on the questions of who printed the first book or where it was printed. We were concerned only with the finished products in so far as they were examples of beauty in work and craftsmanship.

In a series of cases along one wall were exhibited a series of rare and valuable books. The arrangement was in chronological order and above the cases were charts showing the various authors who worked during that particular century and what advances were made in printing. With the aid of these charts…the arrangement of the books could be more easily understood and the scope of the exhibition the more fully grasped.

At the beginning there were books fashioned by hand, such as the Flaunden Missal, beautifully illuminated and marvellously preserved. Then we advanced to one of the earliest books printed, to a facsimile of Shakespeare’s first folio, to first editions of Scott and Dickens. Among the modern books were many examples of fine printing and binding by William Morris’s Kelmscott Press, by the Gregynog Press, the Grayhound Press and the Golden Cockerel Press.

The focus on the contemporary, well-made trade edition, is noteworthy:

There were also exhibited the processes by which half-tone plates and line-blocks were produced and methods employed in binding a book. The high standard of work combined with cheapness which many modern firms were maintaining could be seen in a display of cheap yet attractively produced books. On the walls were charts illustrating such subjects as the Stationers’ Company, the printing of the Bible,  illumination of manuscripts, all of which greatly assisted those examining the exhibition.

As seems also to have been the case in 1928, some of the items described here were lent by Oxford University Press. John Johnson, always ‘happy to oblige one who has been as good a friend to the Press as you’ – he was printing most of Whitehouse’s books at this period – had sent two boxes of material, one ‘containing seven books for exhibition purposes’ (probably including the First Folio, which looks like the facsimile of the Bridgewater Library copy, edited by Sidney Lee and published by the Clarendon Press in 1902), the other ‘the same gear for production that I sent you before’ (presumably referring to the 1928 exhibition), most likely relating to the exhibits concerning photo-mechanical processes and the techniques of book-binding.

The masters R.G. Lloyd and T.M. Stedman appear to have done a great deal of the preparatory work for the exhibition, Whitehouse’s contribution being presented as more that of the generous patron (as he often liked to be seen) than the instigator, though he was ‘ever ready to assist those working with him’. A number of boys, ‘enthusiastic workers…prepared charts and mounted illustrations’. Masters availed themselves of the opportunity to bring their classes to inspect the show and conduct question and answer sessions. The exhibition was held to be a great success.

In contrast to this is the remarkable one-man show dedicated to Eric Gill (by this date a widely-known public figure) mounted in the spring term, 1936, and reported by Stedman in the fiftieth number of the school newspaper. One longs to find some photographic record of this exhibition but, as in 1933, none seems to have been made. But although it’s not quite clear how much of Gill’s typographic work was shown other than the Golden Cockerel Four Gospels (to which Stedman, recent successor to Muirhead in the printing room, brings his printer’s eye), there was much else to interest the printers.

The aim of the show was to bring together a collection representing all aspects of Gill’s art and craft.

The exhibition gave a very good idea of the versatility of the man. There was one piece of sculpture, a piper surrounded by children. In addition to this there was a large number of photographs of the more important works he had executed. A group of photographs showed the Stations of the Cross, which are in Westminster Cathedral. Then there were the figures of Ariel and Prospero, which are over the entrance to Broadcasting House. The War memorial of Leeds University was very striking in its symbolic theme, Christ driving the money changers from the temple. On a smaller scale, but exquisite in its treatment, was the memorial to Winston Churchill’s daughter.

Another feature of the exhibition was a large number of woodcuts which had been used to illustrate books. These were remarkable for their firmness of line and for their design. The human figures were so fitted into their designs of leaves and stems that, although at first one commented on the absence of ornament, on closer examination one realised that the design and treatment were most elaborate. This was clearly shown in the capitals for the Four Gospels.

The actual woodblocks themselves had been filled with gesso which stood out white against the black of the block. In themselves they were of considerable beauty.

Gill had designed a number of founts of type and had set up a press upon which he printed with some of them. In some cases private firms had used his types to produce very beautiful books. A wonderful edition of the Four Gospels printed by the Golden Cockerel Press, and illustrated by Eric Gill was shown. We found at first that it was perhaps a little disturbing to see the uneven right hand side of the page, but apart from this and a few minor considerations in the shape of one or two letters, the type was easy to read and pleasing to the eye.

There was on exhibition a number of original drawings. The most elaborate was the preliminary full size drawing of the Crucifixion, which had been designed for the chapel of Rossall School. There was a small but very interesting group of pencil drawings of heads. These had not been shaded but were the hard lines the sculptor would employ…

There were some architectural drawings, too, one imagines from the beginning of Gill’s career. All in all, the show was ‘a very valuable contribution to the cultural life of the school, in that it has brought us into direct contact with the work of one of the foremost practising craftsmen of the day’. The Warden is thanked for obtaining the exhibits (but was his the original contact with the Gill studio?). He had been assisted in arranging the exhibition by the staff brothers Basil and Niel Rocke.