Written by
Henrik Solberg
Filed under
Craft
From
Issue 13
Astrid Nygaard’s workshop sits above a fishmonger in Bergen, which means the paper smells faintly of the sea. She has been binding books here for thirty-one years, and the press she uses was old when her teacher bought it.
Fold, press, sew
A book, Astrid tells me, is a series of decisions about how paper wants to bend. Fold against the grain and the pages fight you forever. Fold with it and they open flat, quietly, for a century.
Most people think binding is about glue. It is about grain, and listening, and not being in a hurry.
She sews each signature by hand with waxed linen thread — a kettle stitch at the head and tail, a long stitch along the spine — and her hands move so evenly that the sound is almost musical.
Tools on the bench
A bone folder worn smooth by three owners.
Linen thread, waxed by hand every morning.
A nipping press from 1890, still perfectly square.
When I leave, she gives me a small notebook she bound while we talked. It opens flat on my desk as I write this, exactly as she said it would.
About the author
Henrik Solberg
Henrik spent thirty years as a typesetter in Bergen. He writes about paper, ink and the tools that outlast their owners.
