TY - JOUR
AU1 - Calè,, Luisa
AB - Print is often understood as typography or engraving. In the hand-press era engraved illustrations were produced separately in different workshops and then inserted into the gatherings of a printed text at the time of binding. Print histories are often shaped as narratives of supersession, with engraving displaced by photography,1 and hand-press printing by mechanized and digital printing. The function of books changed with the advent of technologies that could separate, capture, and record sensory experience: in addition to photography, the gramophone, film, and typewriter define a new ‘discourse network’ around 1900.2 Since new technologies have integrated digital platforms supporting media convergence, and the book has ceased to be the hegemonic support for writing and reading, paradigms of interpretation have been shifting from medium specificity to interplay and intermedial interaction. Building on Jay David Bolter and Richard Grusin’s Remediation (1999) and Clifford Siskin and William Warner’s understanding of Enlightenment as ‘an event in the history of mediation’,3Interacting with Print: Elements of Reading in the Era of Print Saturation explores the hegemony of print from the licensing act of 1695 to the publication of photographs in newspapers in 1897. Rather than focusing on invention as did Marshall McLuhan’s ‘Gutenberg Galaxy’ and Elizabeth Eisenstein’s The Printing Press as an Agent of Change (1979),4 concentrating on print’s hegemony means thinking about how print acts as ‘a solvent of culture, a vehicle for other media as well as a medium in its own right’ (p. 11). Such a research agenda has been driven by a multidisciplinary network hosted at McGill University since 2006, publishing under the name The Multigraph Collective. A ‘Multigraph’ differs from ‘the unified vision of the monograph’ and the edited collection for a ‘symphonic’ or ‘multiperspectival’ structure that combines ‘multiple voices and multiple points of view’ (p. xi), bringing together twenty-two authors through face-to-face workshops and digital interactions. Their large-scale collaborative authoring model revisits and reinvents print culture through what Jerome McGann has called A New Republic of Letters supported by digital platforms.5 Following a botanical model of cultivation at the heart of the word ‘seminar’, the writing process was developed in three phases of composition. In the ‘seeding’ stage, individual authors drafted a ‘seed’ entry of their own or selected one ‘from a “seedbed” of suggested keywords’. Seeds would only take when successfully ‘grafted’. In the ‘grafting’ stage contributors intervened on each other’s ‘seeds’ using a wiki interface that supports commentary and track-changes. Two annual face-to-face workshops ‘created a rotating system of editorial sessions to work on the seeds’. A non-hierarchical structure of authorship involved all participants as both authors and editors of someone else’s grafted seed. Finally, the ‘pressing’ stage shaped the grafted seeds in the stable form of ‘the hortus siccus, the specimen book of pressed flowers’ (pp. xii–xiv). The resulting alphabetically arranged keyword chapters provide key coordinates for understanding print that can be explored in any order and rearranged in varying constellations with relays identified through keywords in square brackets. Working against narratives of supersession, the choice to focus on ‘the era of print saturation’ challenges chronological arrangements of discrete media histories, opting instead for a ‘media ecology’ in which ‘changes in one medium produce changes in all the others, just as the introduction of a new medium, or its rapid growth, produces changes in the others’ (p. 11). Thus, focus on the interplay instead of chronological arrangement leads to fascinating accounts of how print was used as a support for manuscript, building on the work of Peter Stallybrass:6 blank spaces allowed for inscriptions, dedications, and other kinds of marginalia [‘Marking’], while books were also augmented and/or repurposed as repositories for letters and other documents [‘Letters’, ‘Manuscript’, ‘Thickening’], and a significant proportion of printers’ work was taken up by printing of blank forms, such as indulgences, permits, receipts, indentures [‘Ephemerality’]. In addition to hosting manuscript, printed forms also register and preserve intermedial objects: tokens of fabric deposited with admission forms issued by the Foundling Hospital ‘form the largest collection of eighteenth-century textiles in Britain’ (p. 134), while ‘printer’s waste’ would be reused by botanists and explorers as supports for drying plant specimens, including the scattered leaves of Joseph Addison’s ‘Notes upon the Twelve Books of Paradise Lost’ from the Spectator taken on James Cook’s Endeavor in 1768–1771, vividly reproduced in the book (p. 136). The Multigraph Collective’s focus on embodied practices shows how interactions with print participate in a material culture of making and knowing: readers ‘cut their way into the leaves of books with paper knives [‘Paper’]. … [T]hey bound their books in a style of their choosing, sometimes gathering texts together in unexpected ways [‘Binding’] …. They collected, mounted, and displayed printed images [‘Engraving’]. They made their own books by folding and stab-stitching loose sheets [‘Paper’]’ (p. 11). Building on recent research in material and book culture on ‘paperwork’, ‘paper consciousness’, and ‘paper-knowledge’,7 the chapter on ‘paper’ explores how this material support structured social relations, focusing on not ‘what paper did to people, but what did people do with paper?’ (p. 224). Going against disembodied notions of the reader and the spectator, they concentrate on the ‘gestural interactions’ that define print: folding and then cutting sheets quired into books, moveable flaps from devotional practices, toy theatres, and pop-up books; unfolding prints, maps, charts, and tables that supplement printed text folded inside books or hanging on the walls of sites of learning, subverting ‘the logic of the self-enclosed codex’ and ‘pushing the limits of paper technology’ by contrasting the ‘synoptic identity of the fold out’ to the ‘serial identity of the book’ (pp. 230–1). Prints, drawings, manuscripts, labels, and later photographs pasted, tipped or mounted into extra-illustrated books and scrapbooks add layers and multiply ways of seeing (pp. 230–1). Inserted in different directions, such objects repurpose the book for shared ‘simultaneous reading’ from different angles, while rotation and unfolding mark out the book’s changing and expandable dimensions (pp. 233–4). Uses of print as a support for organizational forms are explored in the chapters on ‘Catalog’, ‘Index’, ‘Binding’, and ‘Thickening’ (pp. 233–4). Auction catalogues, inventories, and systems of classification ‘keep track of things while they move through space’, from the dispersal of a collection to the reorganization of travel specimens within metropolitan institutions. Writing mediates a world of objects at a distance through a prose that ‘replaces, personates, animates’ (p. 71) them. Analysis of the catalogue as a literary genre reveals its potential as a gothic form thanks to its paratactic ability to ‘blend items into each other’, as ‘adjectival modification begins to slip and parts join up with other parts, forming strange bodies’ (p. 79). While catalogue genres order objects alphabetically, sequentially, by rank, or patron, the typographic layout and spacing that give entries their legibility also usher their potential unfixing. Not only does such itemizing encourage intermittent forms of reading such as skimming and anthologizing, but it also makes it easier to cut out entries and paste them as captions under prints, plants, and other specimens in extra-illustrated books, scrapbooks and herbaria, as exemplified by a beautiful reproduction from Hans Sloane’s herbarium volumes (‘Catalogue’, p. 72, fig. 4.1 on p. 76, p. 77; ‘Thickening’, p. 289). ‘Ephemerality’ traces the uses and trajectories of printing genres that were not meant to survive their day in what Thomas Carlyle has termed a ‘paper age’.8 IT-narratives, satires, and periodical essays tracking the potential afterlife of the paper they are written on articulate ‘a theory of mediation by other means, a theory regarding the ways in which value is conferred or denied through the uses to which paper is put’ (p. 127). This theme cuts across a series of entries, from Charles Lamb’s need to reverse the hierarchy of genres identified by binding choices in a gentleman’s library to Leigh Hunt’s reflections on albums, annuals, and giftbooks discussed in the chapter on ‘binding’. The survival of printers’ waste, advertising, playbills, publishers’ catalogues, prints, and manuscripts, as well as herbal and textile specimens collected in books, also identifies a running theme in which the uses of print trace the transformation of books into organizational forms and repositories. What comes across is a material culture of the archive, although the archive is paradoxically not crystallized as a keyword in this fascinating book. Art historians will be particularly interested in the chapters on ‘engraving’ and ‘frontispieces’, which articulate a comparative international story about print by focusing on the different models offered by Vienna and London. Responding to the competition of foreign imports of French and English prints, an Academy of Engravers was established in Vienna in 1766 to train and support local artists who would reproduce Old Master paintings from Viennese collections. This initiative was part of the Habsburg administration’s drive towards state control and centralization of a ‘sprawling multi-ethnic empire’. While the English market also felt the competition of imported prints, its approach was commercial. Applying the model of publishing by subscription, literary galleries appealed to the patriotic citizenship of subscribers claiming that the public patronage of a commercial nation would support a new British school of historical painting by funding commissions for historical paintings from literary works that would be engraved and sold as sets of prints and illustrated editions. While Boydell has received recent art historical attention,9 the Multigraph’s approach stands out for its focus on the literary galleries as intermedial spaces where readers and viewers could purchase catalogues including the key literary excerpts, engravings, and books, and where paintings could be compared to engravings and their textual sources, encouraging a culture of intermedial appreciation. While this structured engraving as a transfer technology, it also highlighted the different set of skills involved in different techniques. In contrast to the low esteem enjoyed by engraving in The London Tradesman (1747), its transition from a mechanical reproductive medium to one of the fine arts is documented in The Book of English Trade (1818). When engravings ceased to be a hegemonic means of reproduction, instead of being displaced by other media, ‘their value increased by virtue of their scarcity and close association with fine-art practices, operating in dialogue with the painting and sculpture they reproduced, and even, in due course, with photomechanical processes’ (p. 123).10 Interacting with Print traces various forms of media relations. To make their case against ‘manuscript obsolescence’, the Multigraph authors explore forms of ‘remediation’, from handwriting manuals to examples of facsimiles that attempted to reproduce print through manuscript (pp. 187–91); ‘intermediation’, in which print is shown to adapt manuscript genres such as glosses or frame spaces for manuscript inscription (pp. 187–91), from marginalia to the dedicatory leaves in gift books (pp. 191–5); and ‘morphomediality’, a phenomenon associated with the rise of the literary archive (pp. 191–5), in which authors’ papers are related to print ‘in morphological terms, as systems that stadially grew from one another’ (p. 195). Similarly, engraving gains recognition as a medium once its hegemonic role in technical reproducibility is taken over by other media. Among the strengths of the Multigraph Collective is the ability to think across media combining expertise in different disciplines in a shared interdisciplinary practice. From Mary Delany’s paper mosaics to bindings inlaid with an oil painting framed by opals, or twigs, manuscripts and prints pasted into the fly-leaves of a copy of Thomas Gray’s poems, as well as visual satires, paintings, and extra-illustrated prints, the Multigraph Collective’s carefully-chosen and beautifully illustrated objects resist streamlining and subsuming under disciplinary histories of individual arts, showing what is lost by treating print from within a single discipline. Thora Brylowe’s Romantic Art in Practice: Cultural Work and the Sister Arts, 1760–1820 makes a case for print as a condition of possibility for what she calls the ‘sister arts moment’. A member of the Multigraph Collective, Brylowe shares its methodological approach to ‘print in the media ecology’, focusing on the evidence of practice, ‘a method that requires careful attention to the making and distribution of the physical media’ that constitute her ‘material archive’ (pp. 5, 28). Her interest in artistic forms of labour builds on Pierre Bourdieu’s sociology of art and Robert Darnton’s attention to the ‘supporting agents and institutions that produced the material substance’ of communications circuits (p. 28). Like Interacting with Print, Romantic Art in Practice also starts in 1695, when the English phrase ‘sister arts’ makes its first appearance as a comparison between poetry and painting in John Dryden’s Preface to Du Fresnoy’s De Arte Graphica (p. 9). Dryden does not engage with ‘fields of artistic production’ associated with the sister arts, she argues, ‘because, short of looking at many prints, Dryden had little knowledge of painting’ (p. 15); the comparison between painting and poetry is mediated by prints. The ‘sister arts’ moment is defined by print as a means of circulation and the emergence of a field of print practices and institutions that shape artisans’ and artists’ professional identities and disciplinary formations. Brylowe’s chronology of the sister arts builds on Noah Heringman’s analysis of the division of labour and ‘antiquarian conditions of production’ in the 1760s with the publication of Stuart and Revett’s Antiquities of Athens (1763–1839), Pierre d'Hancarville’s Collection of Etruscan, Greek and Roman Antiquities from the Cabinet of the Hon. Wm. Hamilton (1766–1776), and Chandler, Revett, and Pars’ Ionian Antiquities (1769).11 In contrast to the forms of patronage and connoisseurial authority associated with these monumental publications, the literary galleries identify an alternative model of the field of art that uncouples artists from connoisseurs through the mediation of print by subscription. The end of the sister arts moment is marked by a series of publications reflecting on the aftermath of the literary galleries in which artists turned into authors, became independent arbiters of their field of practice, and challenged Boydell’s commercial model and the respective merits of different engraving techniques. ‘The ascendance of the British artist over the antiquarian’ (p. 35) is measured by their professional authority in the debates on the Elgin Marbles. With the rise of new technologies of illustration that allowed the integration of the image in the layout of the page, engravers’ lost their hegemonic role in mediating painting through print and authors the ekphrastic task of mediating painting through words. An impressive reading of Keats’s ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ as ‘an act of ravaging by forcing the urn’s body down onto a printed paper surface’ (p. 34) marks the uncoupling of the sister arts. Brylowe’s book starts and ends with brilliant chapters on vases. Chapter one, entitled ‘Original Copies: Wedgwood’s Portland Vase in Painting and Poem’, explores ‘how artists reauthorized antiquity’ (p. 38), arguing for a recursive model of mediation in the (re)production of antiquity, from seventeenth and eighteenth-century engravings of the Barberini/Portland Vase to ‘the new process of precise three-dimensional replication invented by the potter Josiah Wedgwood’ (p. 37). The analysis is divided into sections about the materiality of the Portland Vase: ‘Glass’ traces the trajectory of the original; ‘Paper’ the two-dimensional engravings that provided models enabling artists and manufacturers to ‘invent in the same stile’ (d’Hancarville, p. 40) and the power dynamics between Sir William Hamilton; the Society of Antiquaries; engravers including Giovanni Battista Cipriani, Federico Bartolozzi, and William Blake; and printsellers involved in the display, copying, choice of medium, and distribution of portfolios of engravings. ‘Publicity’ analyzes Wedgwood’s expert networking with Sir William Hamilton and Sir Joshua Reynolds, showing how the academic power of the Royal Academy president began to carve out a space of authority for painters alongside aristocrats and connoisseurs. The section on ‘Leaves’ explores the metamorphosis of matter through the mediation of poetry in Erasmus Darwin’s The Botanic Garden: poetic form shows the Portland Vase emerging within a celebration of the metamorphoses of clay, rather than glass, substituting the materiality of the classical vase with that of the modern artefact, which thus becomes a modern original. The section on ‘Dust’ tracks a further material transformation of the vase in the new medium of marble-dust invented by G.L.Haas. A Wedgwood copy is included as an offering of Genius in British Manufactory in a decorative scheme produced in marble-dust after chalk designs by Benjamin West in the drawing-room ceiling of the Queen’s Lodge at Windsor. While Darwin’s poetic account had elided the division of labour that went into its making, as Heringman has argued, West’s subject represents a celebration of production that reintegrates the vase into an allegory of labour. The chapter ends with a discussion of the dynamic of the copy: in the sister arts moment, ‘rather than a result of mechanical reproduction, or a hierarchy where one medium is always the content of another, these works by “copyists” like Wedgwood or Blake or Haas invite a full consideration of the skilled work of their authors’ (p. 63). Chapter two, entitled ‘William Blake, Antiquarians, and the Status of the Copy’, comes back to the relationship between artists and antiquarians through the angle of the artisan printmaker. Blake’s engagement with antiquarianism dates back to his apprenticeship to James Basire in the 1770s, when he worked on plates for Stuart and Revett’s Antiquities of Athens, for the Society of Antiquaries, and made copies from Sir William Hamilton’s vase publications. He debunked this antiquarian world in the manuscript satire An Island in the Moon in the mid 1780s, registering in the figure of Etruscan Column Hamilton’s mis-naming of Greek vases as Etruscan, while possibly also hinting at Wedgwood’s Etruria. Brylowe’s chapter traces Blake’s lifelong engagement with alternative, popular rather than classical, antiquarianism with a brilliant reading of a poem in which Blake brings the language of the prophets to bear on those who follow antiquarian worship and idolatry ‘for the sake of being polite’. Blake’s critique of the social politics of antiquarianism clarifies the tensions within its division of labour. His poem is read against visual satires debunking aristocrat connoisseurs such as the Society of Dilettanti. Teasing out allusions to biblical prophecies, Brylowe suggests that Blake’s reference to ‘stocks and stones and idols’ might allude to the contents of ancient pagan tombs at Herculaneum and Pompei pillaged by modern antiquarian connoisseurs such as those captured in the frontispiece of Hamilton’s 1791 Collection of Engravings (pp. 81, 179, Fig. 6.2), which shows an ancient tomb being opened in front of a polite crowd. Against this critique of ‘polite’ classicism, Blake’s engagement with classical culture shows how recursive modes of reproduction offered a testing ground for alternative aesthetics of print. Hamilton and his nephew Charles Greville employed Giovanni Battista Cipriani and Federico Bartolozzi, but stipulated that in delineating the figures on the Portland Vase they should avoid the dotted manner they had used for decorative classical designs circulating in the medium of stipple engraving. Blake’s work for George Cumberland’s Thoughts on Outline (1796) emphasizes the stakes involved in linear engraving. Just as the dot-and-lozenge system is associated with a division of labour that relegates the engraver to the condition of mechanical labourer, so too can William Tischbein’s outlines from Hamilton’s vases be the alienated ‘flourishes of a penman’ (p. 82), mechanical copies that support translatability across media, rather than ‘eternal work’. Chapter four, ‘Literary Galleries and the Media Ecology: Painting for Print in the Age of Anthologies’, focuses on the Boydell model as ‘a kind of hybrid print and bookselling art institution’ (p. 88). Boydell’s strategy is embodied in his repurposing the premises of the publisher Robert Dodsley on Pall Mall as The Shakespeare Gallery. The entrance of the gallery featured Thomas Banks’s alto-relievo allegory of Shakespeare between Painting and Poetry, which ‘reinforces the slippage between the three-dimensional space of the gallery and the two-dimensional space of the page’ (p. 99). When it was reproduced as an engraving used as a frontispiece to Boydell’s illustrated edition of Shakespeare, the allegory bore a caption from Hamlet that had featured on the title page of William Dodd’s Beauties of Shakespeare (1752), strengthening the connection between the medium of the gallery and the book in an increasingly anthological culture (p. 99). Boydell’s desire to identify Shakespeare as an author rather than playwright comes through his emphasis on the authoritative text established by Shakespeare editor George Steevens. Brylowe does fascinating work on the editorial process drawing on evidence of dialogue and marginalia corrections entered by Steevens and the printer on proof sheets of the text now preserved at the Folger Shakespeare Library. While the intermedial dynamics of print predicate the comparison between media, Brylowe’s analysis of the reception of the Shakespeare Gallery demonstrates the subordinate role of painting inaugurated by Boydell’s own disclaimer that Shakespeare ‘possessed powers which no pencil can reach’. Focus on visual print media is central to artistic writing in the aftermath of the literary galleries discussed in chapters four and five, which reflect on ‘The (Sister) Arts in Crisis’. The model of painting for print depended on the flexibility of separate plate engravings, which could either be inserted in books or hung on the wall, rescaling the dimensions of painting to the more limited wall space of the home (p. 128). Hence interaction with print supported ways of seeing associated with painting and/or reading. The emergence of print media that could integrate the visual element in the typographical layout of the page and anchored engraving to the form of the book coincides with the consolidation of the word ‘illustration’ as a visual counterpart to the printed text. In the aftermath of the literary galleries, painting needed to be reconfigured as an autonomous medium rather than ‘exist as the humble companion of literature – the handmaid to ostentatious typography’, as Martin Archer Shee argued (p. 134).12 The status of engraving was also redefined as engravers challenged Boydell’s role in furthering the art through technical discussions of the respective merits of different printing techniques in the pages of periodicals: ‘the debate over dots and lines was an aesthetically coded version of the struggle for authority in the art field’ (p. 161). Brylowe traces John Landseer’s interventions, reconstructing how artistic appreciation went hand-in-hand with close reading and comparison of Boydell’s prospectuses and other publications, thus showing how ‘interpretive literary methods migrated into apparently disparate fields’ (p. 171), from his lectures at the Royal Institution, to their appearance in print, refracted in reviews published in his journal Review of Art, in letters to The Examiner, and used as courtroom evidence in the Boydell vs Drummond case. The claim that ‘the sister-arts moment is a small piece of a larger sociological move towards professional autonomy and specialisation’ (p. 188) is also borne out by the trajectory of the Shakespeare Gallery, from a purpose-built exhibition space repurposed from the premises of a bookseller to the site of the British Institution for Promoting the Fine Arts, which rearticulated the field of painting within an institutional ‘reorganisation of knowledge that was happening across the arts and sciences’ (p. 129). Thomas Bernard, the co-founder of the British Institution and the Royal Institution, represents the new figure of the cultural administrator within a structure in which Governors chose a Committee of Directors that included members of the Society of Dilettanti and other antiquarians and connoisseurs’ (p. 131). While subsuming painting to such figures might seem a restoration of aristocratic patronage, Brylowe builds on Jon Klancher’s Transfiguring the Arts and Sciences (2013) to show how the British Institution fits in the emergence of cultural institutions as a new form of ‘cultural administration’ or ‘governmentality of the arts and sciences’.13 As the book market model of the Shakespeare Gallery is sidelined, Brylowe argues that painters took on the model of authors as arbiters of taste by publishing pamphlets and periodical essays and editing journals. Their authority is sanctioned by the role they played alongside connoisseurs when both were called to give evidence to the Parliamentary Select Committee on the Elgin Marbles. Brylowe’s final chapter, ‘Ravaged Brides: Urns on Romantic Paper’, returns to the print culture of vases discussed in the first chapter with an analysis of print media as forms of ‘ink pushed into paper’ (p. 198), reading Keats’s ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ (1820) alongside Thomas Kirk’s Outlines from the Figures and Compositions upon the Greek, Roman, and Etruscan Vases of the Late Sir William Hamilton (1804, 1816) as forms that flatten the three-dimensionality of vases on the flat surface of paper. Through Kirk’s work, Brylowe brilliantly ties together all the strands of the book. Kirk was the only artist to both paint and engrave his own reproduction. His depiction of Lavinia from Titus Andronicus for Boydell Shakespeare Gallery (pp. 185–7, Fig. 6.5) carefully uses drapery to shield direct encounter with her terrible mutilations. ‘His experience with literary reprints and his reputation for tasteful representations of distasteful subjects’, argues Brylowe, demonstrates the skills required for him ‘to create an anthology of Hamilton’s books’, containing the pagan, libertine, and political traditions of classical antiquarianism and ‘transforming the continental antiquarian publication into a safe domestic product’ (p. 177). While the 1760s volumes reproducing Hamilton’s vases had offered ‘an uncontextualized encounter with two-dimensional pictures on the page’, which fails to ‘immediately evoke their three-dimensional referent’ (pp. 180–1), by 1772 the vases themselves were on display at the British Museum. However, print continues to hold its hegemony as a form of mediation. The Staffordshire ‘Spode company claims Kirk’s 1804 British book, not the ancient originals in the British Museum, as its source: the dishes depict copies of copies of copies, ironically removed from the flat surface of the page and returned to the curvilinear surface of a pottery vessel’ (p. 187). As a ‘visual editor’, Kirk’s publication measures the shift from connoisseurial to artistic control of antiquarian representation by regularizing the visual codes of antiquity for a new book market: ‘the thin, mid-sized royal quarto moves an aristocratic mode of publishing for small audiences into a vast new marketplace’ (p. 189). Footnotes 1 Anthony Griffiths, The Print before Photography: An Introduction to European Printmaking, 1550–1820 (London: The British Museum Press, 2016); Tom Gretton, ‘Difference and Competition: The Imitation and Reproduction of Fine Art in an Illustrated Weekly News Magazine’, Oxford Art Journal, vol. 23, no. 2, 2000, pp. 143–62. 2 Friedrich A. Kittler, Gramophone, Film, Typewriter (Stanford, CA.: Stanford University Press, 1999); Friedrich A. Kittler, Discourse Networks 1800/1900 (Stanford, CA.: Stanford University Press, 1990). 3 Jay David Bolter and Richard Grusin, Remediation: Understanding New Media (Cambridge, MA.: MIT Press, 1999); Clifford Siskin and William Warner, This is Enlightenment (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2010), p. 7. 4 Marshall McLuhan, The Gutenberg Galaxy: The Making of Typographic Man (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1962); Elizabeth Eisenstein, The Printing Press as an Agent of Change: Communications and Cultural Transformations in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979). 5 Jerome McGann, A New Republic of Letters: Memory and Scholarship in the Age of Digital Reproduction (Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press, 2014). 6 Peter Stallybrass, ‘“Little Jobs”: Broadsides and the Printing Revolution’, in Sabrina Alcorn Baron, Eric N. Lindquist, and Eleanor F.Shevlin (ed.s), Agent of Change: Print Culture Studies after Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, (Amherst, MA: University of Massachusetts Press, 2007), pp. 314–41. 7 Kevin McLaughlin, Paperwork: Fiction and Mass Mediacy in the Paper Age (Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005); Robert Darnton, ‘What is the History of Books? Revisited’, Modern Intellectual History, vol. 4, no. 3, 2007, pp. 495–508, especially p. 498 for a discussion of ‘paper consciousness’; Lisa Gitelman, Paper Knowledge: Toward a Media History of Documents (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2014). 8 Carlyle’s point, quoted in McLaughlin, Paperwork, p.1, was made in The French Revolution (1837) in relation to paper currency. The uses of paper currency in the French Revolution are discussed by Multigraph Collective author Richard Taws in The Politics of the Provisional: Art and Ephemera in Revolutionary France (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2013). 9 Rosie Dias, Exhibiting Englishness: John Boydell's Shakespeare Gallery and the Formation of a National Aesthetic (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013). 10 Stephen Bann, Parallel Lines: Printmakers, Painters and Photographers in Nineteenth-Century France (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2001); Stephen Bann, Distinguished Images: Prints in the Visual Economy of Nineteenth-Century France (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013). 11 Noah Heringman, Sciences of Antiquity: Romantic Antiquarianism, Natural History, and Knowledge Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 125. 12 Martin Archer Shee, Rhymes on Art; or, The Remonstrance of a Painter (London: H.Ebers, 1805), xlviii. 13 Jon Klancher, Transfiguring the Arts and Sciences: Knowledge and Cultural Institutions in the Romantic Age (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 52. © The Author(s) 2019. Published by Oxford University Press; all rights reserved This article is published and distributed under the terms of the Oxford University Press, Standard Journals Publication Model (https://academic.oup.com/journals/pages/open_access/funder_policies/chorus/standard_publication_model)
TI - Sister or ‘Handmaid’? How to do Things with Prints
JF - Oxford Art Journal
DO - 10.1093/oxartj/kcz012
DA - 2019-12-01
UR - https://www.deepdyve.com/lp/oxford-university-press/sister-or-handmaid-how-to-do-things-with-prints-0AxFqc0ek9
SP - 395
VL - 42
IS - 3
DP - DeepDyve
ER -