It goes without saying that each of these three possibilities of printing necessitates presses of appropriate construction; thus, in the so-called platten press, the pressure is exerted vertically upon the block by the flat metal plate which comes down upon it, on the same principle as in the letter-press familiar to us all. All intaglio plates are printed in roller presses, in which the plate, laid on an iron bed, passes between two rollers, one above, one below, as in a clothes-wringer. The lithographic press, finally, has a traveling bed, which passes under a stationary flat piece of wood. During its passage under this wooden bar, the paper is firmly pressed down upon the stone, which would be crushed in the other types of presses.[2]
[2] Lithographs made on metal plates may be printed in an intaglio press as well.
After this summary review of the technique of prints, let us consider, with what brevity we may, the great phases of development of the graphic arts.
II
THE ORIGIN OF WOODCUT
The term “invention” is often used in referring to the origin of printing and of engraving, as though these devices had come into being quite suddenly,—overnight, as it were. The belief is prevalent, indeed, that one man in Mayence originated, developed, perfected, established printing, and that another man in Florence originated printing from engraved plates about that same time (middle of the fifteenth century). If we look more closely into these subjects, it becomes evident that Dame Tradition has flashed the light of fame upon one link only, of a chain of achievements which stretches back into the unknown. She has clothed one man, call him Gutenberg, call him Finiguerra, with the sum of thought and attainment which had preceded them, that the achievement might gain added impressiveness. The printing-press, and printing from movable type, had reached a state of high perfection at the time when Gutenberg printed his epoch-making Bibles, and research has substantiated the belief that a period of experiment and development must have preceded and led up to such excellence, although these early days of printing still baffle the ingenuity of research. The genesis of printing from engraved plates is equally difficult to establish, though the claim of invention by any one man is as little admissible here as in the other instance. It is a matter of gradual development. Remember, it is the printing from engraved plates which concerns us in our inquiry. Engraving as a means of decorating metal surfaces dates back to remote antiquity, but that is foreign to our present subject. Only when engraving is used as a means of reproducing a design, does it enter within our sphere of interest. Similarly are we concerned to a certain extent with the wood-block method used in the days of Byzance, for stamping patterns upon cloth, because it is the parent of our woodcut. We have here, however, a device used for the decoration of textile fabrics, and we must reserve our interest for the time when the design printed from the wood block, upon paper or any other suitable carrier of an impression, becomes the essential consideration.
The origin of the processes of reproduction is invariably utilitarian. Every advance, every new technical attainment, can be traced to the demand for devices which would lessen labor and save time. The graphic arts do not share with painting a development based upon a desire for æsthetic expression. Their origin is imitative, thoroughly democratic, and every process continues in that lowly sphere, until the genius of some powerful artist lifts it into realms of art. For the very reason of this utilitarian tendency, and because of a gamut of expression restricted to line and tone for the interpretation of a world of color and form, the graphic arts, even more than other forms of artistic expression, need the steady hand of the gifted artist to sustain them on a high plane of excellence. Deprived of this guiding support, their decline to levels of mediocrity and commercialism is swift and inevitable.
If we glance at early periods of history, we are readily convinced that before the fifteenth century there existed no demand for pictorial work widespread or emphatic enough to call into life speedier substitutes for hand work. Surely no need of such substitutes was felt in the Græco-Roman world, where a well-developed system of scribes met the demands of their patrons. Nor were multiplying devices needed in the early days of Christianity. The new faith, to be sure, made its appeal to everybody, to the high-born and lowly alike, but it relied mainly on the word of the preacher for the transmission of its simple creed. During the dark ages of ferment, migration, and strife which followed, the monuments of antique culture, erudition, knowledge were engulfed. What demand could there have been for the multiplying arts in that period of dense ignorance, of ceaseless struggle for life itself, for the bare necessities of life, for merely endurable conditions? The Church, the only institution of stability in this sea of unrest, became the repository of whatever remained of tradition and erudition,—mysteries, these, to be jealously guarded and held as a privilege of the clergy.
Owing to the prevalent illiteracy among the people in these dark ages, the Church, in its mission of spiritual guidance, relied, as of old, on the preacher’s word. The power of his exhortations was seconded, however, by silently eloquent, impressive teachings surrounding the worshipers, namely, the scenes and figures of religious import, painted upon the walls of the church. That same endeavor to stimulate pious thoughts carried the miniature into liturgical books, into religious manuscripts generally. The writing-room of the monastery was all-sufficient to provide for the pious needs of clergy, rulers, and nobles. Here the patient copyist drew again and again the outlines of the large illuminated initials of his text, until he bethought himself of the labor he might save by imitating the cloth-printer, and cutting wooden relief-blocks of these outlines which he might stamp upon his parchment. An early device this, adopted in the twelfth or thirteenth century, but clearly foreshadowing the development which was soon to follow.
Meantime, in that iron age religious enthusiasm had fired the crusaders, the armor-clad Occident had met the Orient, bringing back some of the wisdom of the ancient East into the scholar’s study and the convent cell, and broadening man’s outlook upon the world.