JD'A – 7A–P: TRAPEZE prospectus — 1976

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JD'A – 7A: TRAPEZE  (copies 1-17 and artist's proofs)

CIRC | CIRC | CIRC | TRAPEZE | by D’Ambrosio | 

CIRCUS | Typography by the Compulsive Printer | CIRCUS | Portage, Indiana / Chicago, Illinois 1976

10 x 8 inches, i–ix: images, [x]: title with copyright on verso, xi–xii: text, xiii: image, xiv–xxii: text, xiii: image, xiv–xxii: text, xxiii: image, xxiv–xxvii: text, xxviii: image, xxxix–xxxxii: text, xxxxiii–xxxxvii: images,[xxxxviii]: colophon, [xxxxix]: logo of the compulsive printer.

Colophon: This edition, limited to fifty numbered copies and seven artist proofs, has been set in 18 point Centaur and 24 point P. T. Barnum, and printed on Rives BFK paper by The Compulsive Printer, Portage, Indiana 46368, on a number 3 Vandercook proof press.

All serigraphs and binding produced by D'Ambrosio at Alta Vista Terrace.

This edition published by Joseph J. D' Ambrosio,

3824 Alta Vista Terrace, Chicago, Illinois 60613.

This is copy number

[in pencil] # / 50

and signed by

[in pencil]

Joseph J. D'Ambrosio, artist

[in pencil]

Elmore Mundell, printer.

Images signed and numbered by D’Ambrosio ‘76 with additional signature on images with printing: i, iii, iv, v, vii.

Bound in fabric, in honey-colored vinyl, Binding threads exit through the spine to become part of the art on the cover.

Note: edges of pages are uneven, text and images are only on recto except for the copyright page.

JD'A – 7B: TRAPEZE (copies 18-50)

Same as above except Bound in fabric, in natural canvas.

From A Checklist:

1976

TRAPEZE Circ, Circ, Circ; Circus, Circus

by D'Ambrosio.

50 leaves, 10 x 8 inches. Handset in Centaur and P.T. Barnum by the Compulsive Print-er, serigraphed title and initials by D'Ambrosio. 50 signed and numbered copies and 7 artist's proofs, printed, text in black and serigraphs in black and colors, on Rives BFK, recto only, on a Vandercook proof press. Bound in fabric, copies 1-17 and artist's proofs in honey-colored vinyl, 18-50 in natural canvas. Binding threads exit through the spine to become part of the art on the cover. Slipcase of Japan paper over board, 20 major graphics, image on cover, signed.

From 19 Years and Counting:

1976

CIRC CIRC CIRC TRAPEZE

CIRCUS CIRCUS

Edition: 50 numbered copies, and 7 artist proofs

Size: 8 x 10 inches

Type: 18 pt. Centaur, and 24 pt. P.T. Barnum

Leaves: 50 - Rives BFK paper

Binding: Artist proofs and copies 1 through 17 in honey-colored vinyl cloth; copies 18 through 50 in natural canvas - all copies over boards and wood with waxed threads;

Japanese paper over boards slipcase

I Wrote Trapeze. Consequently, I did not have to soften the design to complement another's manuscript without overpowering it. This freedom allowed for many graphic images integrated with letterpress printing. Mr. Mundell so expertly aligned the words where wanted them placed within the graphic images, I asked that he also sign those pages along with my signa-ture. * Because Trapeze is about a circus, Mr. Mundell suggested using P.T. Barnum type. It could not be obtained in a size small enough for the text, so we decided to use it for the chapter introductions and Centaur for the text. The two extremely different type faces work well together because they have different design func tions on the same page. My engineering background from the Illinois Institute of Technology created an appreciation for functional design. This book is bound in that manner. The threads which hold the pages in place exit through the spine of the book and become the straining ropes for a circus tent serigraphed on the front cover. The threads had to be waxed so their 90-degree angles remained rigid in the travel from spine to front cover.

Otherwise they would sag when the book is opened and the tension is removed.

1976–77

Not being well financed, I could not buy all of the binding material at one time. As I sold books, I would use the money to buy more material. After copy number 17 was completed, my supplier ran out of the vinyl material and could not obtain it.

(It was manufactured in West Germany.)

I was faced with the dilemma of what to use for the rest of the edition. This is when I learned that one must "listen to the work," and it will indicate its needs.

Since the story takes place within a circus, natural canvas proved to be the better choice. * With a copy of Trapeze, I set out for San Francisco to get a first-hand reaction to this book. Fine Print, a recently established newsletter, had reviewed The Ondt and the Gracehoper, and I met with its founder, Sandra Kirshenbaum, and her co-workers, D. Steven Corey, and Linnea Gentry. Their comments were invaluable to the future direction of my work as I hoped to bridge the gap between the Fine Arts and the Book Arts.

From A Memoir of Book Design:

When working with another's words, a designer has to be extremely careful not to overpower the work with his or her own agenda, or ego. I wrote Trapeze. Consequently, 1 did not have to soften the design to complement another's manuscript. Is it possible to overpower oneself? I think not. From what I have experienced, the work only becomes a stronger force because of it. However, a second voice is helpful to prevent the designer from going too far and destroying the project. This freedom allowed for the use of many graphic images integrated with letterpress printing. I would produce the images first through serigraphy, and then bring those pages that were completed (a few at a time) to Portage, Indiana, where Mr. Mundell and I would together work to place the printed words within them. Mr. Mundell so expertly aligned the words where I wanted them placed within the images that I asked him to sign those pages along with me. He at first declined, but when I convinced him how much I

needed his expertise, he acquiesced.

Trapeze is a murder mystery that takes place within the arena of a traveling circus-specifically, among the high-flying aerialists. Everything about the design had to evoke the feeling of the big top. Mr. Mundell (It may appear somewhat odd that | continue to address a coworker with a title of respect rather than his first name, but that is the habit I first fell into when I met him and maintained it during our entire relationship. He never corrected me by asking me to call him, "Elmore." So I continue to address him with the respect he so warranted.) said that he knew where he could obtain P.T. Barnum type. It turned out to be perfect for titles, but much too boldfaced for the story itself. And, at that point | really liked Centaur, which is a typeface designed by the great typographer Bruce Rogers. In order to use both, I began each chapter with the allusion that the ringmaster was announcing the chapter title in the P.T. Barnum typeface. This was achieved by using the ballyhoo speech pattern so typical of a ringmaster. It is followed by the text in Centaur. The two are totally incompatible and yet work on the same page because each has its own distinct function and reason for being where it is.

The first thing the reader sees is the binding, so I will begin with that. The pages are sewn together with waxed thread. The threads exit through eyelets in the spine and work their way around an outer frame (shadow box) which has a series of eyelets in it. They thread through those eyelets to then become the straining ropes of a circus tent serigraphed within the frame of the front cover. The threads had to be waxed so that they could maintain the bend that occurs naturally in them when the cover is opened and the threads relax. The use of wax gives the threads an attribute of moldable permanence. Otherwise they would contract when the book is opened and fall flatly on the cover circus tent, appearing gelatinous. They are knotted to the basic spine of the sewn text block so there is no danger that the actual pages will flop about. It should be fairly obvious why a designer would want a story about a circus sewn with thread in its interior and which becomes a structural part of the entire book and a visual experience on the outside. Creating a single entity with various parts and pieces that are interrelated heightens and broadens the medium. The layers of communication overlap and double up, weaving a tapestry of interest. It is precisely that interest that I hope will lure the reader to the book, into the story, and to the end. The cover material is vinyl impregnated cloth, so there is a smooth washable surface with a fabric backing. Some have objected to the use of plastic, but it has proven to be very durable; however, the entire edition is not bound similarly. I will go into that facet later, and we will see where the work itself has taught me yet another lesson.

When the front cover is opened, the reader is confronted with a paradox. On the one side (the back of the front cover) is a rough, dark cream paper filled with random shaped inclusions. It is very rugged in nature. On the other side (the recto side of the first page) is pure white, unblemished felt-like paper (Rives BFK). The one represents the sandy dirt of the circus floor, incongruous with, and clashing with, the sparkling purity of glittering costumes and all that is agreeable to the delightful fantasy of a circus. The contrast between the gravel and the elegance makes the elegant even more elegant. And because the gravel is exposed, so too the hint that we as human beings come from placenta and rise to spectacular achievement. Is it necessary for the visual designer to subliminally hint to the tacit elements of a story? An author, using plain prose with no visuals, could achieve the very same effect. In that case the reader is told what to think. Using visuals implies a thought and sinks that thought deeper into the emotion of the reader as he or she relates to the story. The method is closer to the implication of poetry as opposed to the directness of prose.

Nine separate graphics follow before one reaches the title page. The graphics are meant to put the reader into a mood reflective of the circus. The first has a maroon sun hiding behind and beneath a black earth under a dome-shaped, starlit sky. The next, in black and navy blue, shows the main character asleep. The implication so far is that it is night time when all are asleep (except, we shall note, those who erect the circus tent). The next graphic shows the sun, now a pink color, peeping from behind the black earth. The black night sky rises like a draped proscenium curtain from the horizon line, exposing the light of the coming day. In the next graphic, the main character, in black and a lighter blue tone, is stirring from her sleep. The following graphic shows a cream-colored sun further above the horizon, with only a hint of the night curtain exposed at the top of the image. Three circus tent poles have been erected along with some of their restraining cables. The next image is that of the main character, and if you read the falls of her long black hair, you will read her name: Myranda. The next graphic has the black earth turned to a dark green; a gray circus tent is being raised up the poles, and a yellow sun is now high in the sky. Next is a close-up of the sun with Myranda's happy face superimposed within it. The final graphic in the series is the complete circus tent in all of its golden splendor with red flags flying from the top of the tent poles in the shape of "COME, COME" —all of this atop a light moss-green earth with a Ferris wheel and a golden sun in the background.

The following title page is meant to be spectacular. The main title, TRAPEZE, is serigraphed in red and gold silkscreen inks with the tops of the letters swagged as the tops of circus tents, with flags flying. The subordinate title, CIRC/CIRC/CIRC/CIRCUS/CIRCUS, in a curlicue clown-like type style, is printed in black. Interspersed within the lengthy title are the credits to Mr. Mundell and to myself, all on white felt-like paper (Rives BFK). The entire effect thus far is to make the reader as happy and excited and expectant about entering this book as the reader would naturally be at entering a real circus tent. The title word "Trapeze" is serigraphed from hand-cut lacquer stencils, while the words "Circ Circ Circ Circus Circus" were drawn and then a metal plate was made from the drawing. The metal plate allows for printing by a letterpress printing machine. I bring to your attention the fact that the title page is justified (aligned evenly) on the fore edge, while the gutter (or fold) side is ragged. The latter could have been (and usually is) aligned down the center of the page, but it isn't. The inside ragged edge is allowed to spill into the inner fold. The implied boundary line to the right of the reader acts like a barrier and keeps the reader's thoughts within the title page and not wandering off the book's outer edge. It would be ten more years (The Small Garden of Gloria Stuart, 1986) before I would utilize this treatment for both sides of facing text blocks such as you are witnessing right now. And it would be a visual design element that would bring it once again to my attention and to the realm of typographic design usage.

The story begins with the ringmaster's words, in P.T. Barnum type, proclaiming the opening of the story as he would the opening of the circus from the main ring. This is done for the opening of each section (or chapter) to the book and alerts the reader to what each section is about. The sections are not numbered. The upper case first letter of the text is a gold and red letter similar to the design of the main title and was serigraphed after the printing was done. The balance of the text is printed in Centaur. The two typefaces are totally different, and yet compatible, because their functions are purposeful and thus justified.

At the end of this first section is a monotone graphic print done entirely in a gray color. It is a close-up of a young girl looking upward. She is very sad. This indicates to the reader that there will be intrigue and it will take place above the audience in the upper billows of the tent.

The next section once again begins with the barker's proclamation in P.T. Barnum type, with a gold and red upper case opening letter. There are no illustrative adornments on any page that is pure text. The graphics themselves are strong enough to carry the reader forward and in this case embellishments within the text would only interfere with the telling of the story.

Three graphic prints follow the previous section. The first, which is more a poster than a graphic print, is that of Lady Mobra, a fortune teller, in gray and black, staring (with one green eye and one blue eye) at the reader from behind and between her outstretched fingers. The "root" of the Lady Mobra graphic lies in a cigar box trading card that my significant other had tacked to a kitchen wall where we were living at Alta Vista Terrace in Chicago. However, the idea for the differently colored eyes was my own. In fact, my version of Lady Mobra is totally different from that of the trading card, which is a color lithograph. In my rendering she is not quite as lovely—in fact she is more like a hag The use of her name was the main objective of my borrowing. The next is a linoleum block print about the circus and its animals; this really doesn't belong in the succession of events, but it was so much work to carve l included it anyway, just to use it. The only thing I can say for it is that it does not detract from the story. (I have since learned, from my association with Gloria Stuart, whose husband was a screen writer, to discard that which does not advance the story line.) And the third graphic is a suggestion for a circus poster using the main characters in this story: The Flying Uccellos. The surname is meant to imply by association the Italian word for birds. Birds fly and so do aerialists. However, the correct plural in Italian would be Uccelli. The Italian origin is a stereotype, but necessary to the story's conclusion which uses the application of olive oil to the rigging as the method for murder.

The story continues using the same format of a circus barker announcing a proclamation of impending story line, and gold and red illuminated capitals as the beginning of each chapter's text. The next section ends with a morose graphic print in two colors with a gallows-like structure draped with hanging ropes. The implication to the reader is that something dire is about to happen. The swagged ropes are indicative of the trapeze wires hanging from the top of the circus tent. The ropes are swagged in a funereal arrangement, further emphasizing the peril of the ensuing situation.เ

The ensuing calamity is reinforced by the opening to the next section. The barker's proclamation is constant: "Ladies and Gentlemen, A Short Intermission—We Will Return," but the illuminated capital has changed from gold and red to gold and gray, and the flying flags are now at half mast; they too are gray. After a tragedy occurs, the next section returns to the pleasant gold and red illumination with the barker proclaiming: "And Now, With Your Kind Permission—the Show Continues." In other words, life goes on. The remaining story is allowed to unfold with no major graphics until the reader reaches the end of the book. This last series of semi-abstract graphics begins with an autumnal feeling of entering a long bleak period, and continues downhill through the use of somber colors and bare tree branches into further depths of sorrow. It is meant to impart a bittersweet sense to the reader, as is any victory when a loved one has died and is no longer around to share. Basically, through mystery story format, this book was meant to show how one lover could easily betray another when one's eyes are blinded by the very emotion of love. At this early point in an artist's career, finances can become a major problem. So they were for me. The edition of this book was fifty copies.

And yet I could only afford to buy a little of the binding material at one time. I would bind a few books. Sell them. And with the money from sales, buy more material. (As a child, I remember my father telling me the story of the banana salesman. It couldn't possibly be true, but I believed it at the time and it had a profound effect on my attitude for business. "A man had a penny, so he bought a banana. He then went out into the street and sold the banana for two cents. With the money he bought two more bananas, and consequently sold them and now had enough money to buy four bananas. He continued the escalation until he became a rich vegetable and fruit vendor" If nothing else, the story certainly imparts a sense of hope to an entrepreneur.) Only this time, after binding seventeen copies of the edition, my supplier ran out of the material and could not obtain anymore. Previously I explained that many were not happy with the original vinyl-impregnated cloth. So perhaps it was destiny that changed the balance of the edition. The next problem was choosing the correct material in which to bind the remaining copies. This taught me a lesson: Listen to the work and it will tell you what it wants. I did not have to contemplate long to realize that the ideal material would just have to be canvas. What other choice could there be when the story is about a circus? That is what the balance of the edition is bound in: plain, natural canvas.

The book is presented in a slipcase that has an opening on two sides so the book can be pushed out from either end. The slipcase exposes the spine with its threads but hides the surprise of where those threads go and what they become. The tunnel-slipcase is covered in the same rugged paper as the inside of the front cover. It is unlined but the boards are archival. Over the years it has proven to be a very durable and utile type of slipcase, but I have never used the concept again.

©Book Club of California.

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