THE ART OF THE BOOK IN GERMANY. BY L. DEUBNER

“LETTERPRESS printing, even in the edition de luxe, is not an art, and neither the compositor nor the printer is an artist.” This is what was written in the year 1887 by Ludwig Nieper, at that time Director of what is now the Royal Academy of the Graphic Arts and Book Industry at Leipzig, a city which in the present year has in its International Exhibition, embracing every conceivable aspect of the industry as well as the arts most closely bound up with it, furnished such a convincing and impressive demonstration of the culture uniting the nations as perhaps has never been offered before. The conviction expressed in the passage just quoted, repudiating the existence of any influence of art on industrial labour, belongs to a period bereft of any real feeling for art and content with the imitation and repetition of historic styles while eschewing any contact with the practical requirements of the industry. Nowadays we know how beneficial and fruitful for both has been the reciprocal influence of art and industry in every sphere of activity, and that only by this means have we been able to proceed from mere external embellishment to artistic form, from book adornment to a true art of the book. Thus in the space of barely twenty-five years our views of what art really is and what are its functions have radically changed, and it must be left to those who come after us to estimate more correctly than we are able to at the present day, the immense labour which has been accomplished in the space of a generation. The incipient stages in the growth of the new movement in Germany date back some twenty years. At that time we looked with envy at the publications which issued from the private presses of England, and could boast of nothing that could compare with the far-famed “Faust” of the Doves Press; and if to-day we are at length able to stand on our own feet, it would yet be false to assert that the modern art of book production in Germany has developed from within, and to disavow the valuable stimulus and knowledge we owe especially to the English books of that period. And clearly as we perceived that the book in its entirety, with its harmonious co-ordination of type, decoration, composition, paper and binding, should form a work of art, yet only after many mistakes and deviations have we arrived at the goal. Thus nowadays no one would seriously seek to defend such a production as the official catalogue of the German section at the Paris Exhibition of 1900; and so, too, the so-called “Eckmann” type, which at one time was taken up with unexampled enthusiasm—a type in which the designer had contrived to adapt the ancient forms of the “Antiqua” type to the sinuous lines of modern ornament—is now almost completely forgotten. These and many other things which at that time were acclaimed as creative achievements, belong to that class of errors which are really nothing but exaggerated truths. But in the absence of such excesses and that exuberance of feeling which was so violently manifested, it would have been quite impossible to accomplish in so short a time what as a matter of fact was accomplished, and in spite of shortcomings has even now lost none of its importance in the history of the development of a new art of the book.

The first event of significance which followed the renewed recognition of the decorative value of the printed letter was the issue of some new types designed by Otto Eckmann and Peter Behrens respectively, the former slender, delicate, and round, the latter bold, distinguished, and angular, but both alike quite free, natural, and easily legible. It was these founts that really inaugurated the new development; and the foundry of the Gebr. Klingspor which issued them, placed itself by so doing at the head of all those enterprising type-foundries which have since enriched our printing press with a wealth of new and valuable founts. It had come to be recognised that lettering and ornament were closely correlated; that the ornamentation of printed matter could not be regarded as an end in itself, but must be adapted to the character of the lettering in order that the rectangular space of a page should be so filled as to achieve a good general effect and satisfy the sensitive eye. Nothing remained, therefore, but to entrust the designing of new types to artists who had already accomplished good and original work as book decorators; and as none of the numerous German type-foundries desired or indeed could afford to be behindhand in a movement of this kind, it resulted that in the course of a few years the printing presses of the country were inundated with a flood of new “artist” types, of which, nevertheless, only relatively few have been able to survive till now. To design a new type or to re-mould the old forms of “Antiqua” (Roman) or “Fraktur” (German Gothic), so that the new forms should not only have a good black-and-white effect but that the eye should be able to grasp with ease the sequence of “word-pictures” as well as each individual letter and to read the lines quickly and comfortably, is a task of extraordinary difficulty which many who have attempted to grapple with have under-estimated. To obtain an idea of the multitude of difficulties that have to be overcome, one must bear in mind that the fundamental forms of the individual letters are fixed, and that only small changes are possible in the general shape, in the proportions of the component parts, in the alternation of the upright, horizontal, and oblique lines, in the curvature of the so-called “versal” or capital letters, in the serifs, and in the sweep of preliminary or terminal flourishes; that the printed letter, unlike manuscript, is bound up with fixed laws, and that in order to justify its claim to consideration it should, while expressing the artistic individuality of its designer, not be too original and personal if it is to be employed for general use. Further, it should conform to the spirit and ideas of the age, and yet again it ought not to be wholly conditioned by contemporary considerations if it is to survive to a later age, as have many fine founts which the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries have bequeathed to us.

As already said, only a few among our modern German designers of printed types have mastered all these difficulties, and among these few the names of Behrens, Tiemann, Koch, Kleukens, Weiss, and Wieynk are pre-eminent. In the course of some thirteen years that born architect, Peter Behrens, who began as a painter of easel pictures and a decorator of books, and now builds palaces, factory buildings, and gigantic business-houses, has himself designed four founts in which the whole artistic evolution of this strong-willed nature is reflected, and which yet seem so entirely the product of a natural growth that one is quite unconscious of the years of labour spent on their improvement and perfection in the interval between the preparation of the designs and the actual casting of the founts. As compared with the architectonic character of the austere, angular forms of the first Behrens type, the italic or “Kursiv” fount (p. 141) which made its appearance six years later looks more decorative with the gentle sweep and uniform flow of its lines, and in the most successful of the Roman founts the full vigour and monumentality of his later period of activity is clearly expressed; while the most recent of all, the “Mediæval” (p. 140), which was only issued a few weeks ago, is again more ornamental with its uniformly fine lines, and admirably answers to its designation as a type embodying the characteristics of the Italian Renaissance script.

Another “Mediæval” type which even excels that just mentioned in clearness and beauty of form has been designed by Walter Tiemann (pp. 146 and 147), who holds the position of instructor at the Royal Academy of Graphic Arts at Leipzig, and devotes himself almost exclusively to the improvement of the art of lettering and book production. Like all the other types designed by this artist, it has less of a personal character about it, and reason more than sentiment has been the guiding motive in the design; but its cool, distinguished reticence gives it a quite exceptional merit. It is, moreover, completely independent of its classical prototypes and their Romanesque imitations; very effective in all its gradations, the use of it is not restricted to the limited editions of our private presses, and in fact it is now one of the most popular founts we have.

The fine Roman types by F. W. Kleukens (pp. 151, 153 and 156) rank among the most gratifying achievements of our new school. They are free from eccentricity of any kind, there is a seductive charm in their unassuming yet distinguished forms, and even the ornamental slender kinds are agreeably clear. In spite of the thinness of their lines the letters belonging to this slender fount combine to make easily legible lines. The Kleukens types are practical as well as attractive, and in conjunction with specially designed borders, initials and decorative devices of all kinds, they are well adapted for the most diverse uses.

Of a far more personal character, but at the same time of a more restricted range of use, are the graceful types by Heinrich Wieynk (pp. 149 and 150). It is the spirit of the Rococo that dwells therein—that epoch to which, with its playful charm and light-hearted grace, we owe so many masterpieces of French typography. Even the superfluous loops and flourishes which were characteristic of that period are encountered again, with many bizarre peculiarities, in the “Kursiv” and “Trianon” of Wieynk, and yet there is a remarkable fluidity and vitality in each stroke; the general effect is highly artistic, and, as the examples now reproduced show, the founts are admirably adapted to numerous purposes.

Many attempts have been made to modernise the old “Schwabacher” type, which dates from the middle of the fifteenth century, and differs from German Gothic, or “Fraktur,” by being more compact. The most successful in this direction so far has been Rudolf Koch, whose “German Script,” in the three different forms here shown (pp. 142 to 145), has once more revealed the rich beauty and massive power inherent in the various kinds of German type. In these boldly designed letters is expressed a manly earnestness and also a simple grandeur which, in the sweeping, powerful forms of the initials, becomes truly monumental. They are, moreover, carefully thought out in all their details, and notwithstanding the strength of the lines, even in the smallest sizes, they are very expressive in their beauty.

Heinz König, too, has had good fortune with his “Schwabacher” type (p. 152). This is remarkably clear, and in its amalgamation of Roman forms with the characteristics of German founts it has proved both sound and serviceable, and it is one, moreover, which offers no difficulty whatever to the foreigner. The curls and loops which the champions of “Antiqua,” or Roman, find fault with in the German styles of type are absent; it is a Gothic purged of all unnecessary details and is at once dignified and decorative.