Strikes & Gutters

  "How are you doing?"

It's not an easy question to answer sometimes. When your mentor, your father figure, your friend, asks you in a public place and your life isn't quite where you want it to be, you might not have a ready response.

"You know what they say... strikes and gutters, Barry. Strikes and gutters."

 Maybe I've been watching too many Coen brothers movies lately. But because he's all those things to you... the reason he's all those things to you, he understands.

Wednesday night I had dinner and a long talk with Barry Moser. For those of you that don't know, Barry is a well known illustrator, an extraordinary wood engraver and a maker of fine press books. But that's a poor description. He is, above all, a teacher. He was a Methodist minister early on in his life, but that didn't last long. Soon enough, he realized that often people have difficulty reconciling their scripture and their prejudices.

We spoke for a long time... of art and politics... of the sacred and profane. He let me in on something that I'd guess he's told fewer people than he could count with one hand. He told me of his plans for his 70th birthday as well. It's something that is at once glorious and juvenile and makes me wish I could be there to see it. I have a hard time believing he will really be seventy years old this Fall.

"I began the Bible fifteen years ago. I don't know if I have another fifteen years left in me."

He often jokes that he's mortal and won't always be here. I don't buy it.

"I'm cutting your fucking head off and freezing it just like Joe DiMaggio's," I replied.

 I aspire to be like Barry. I don't mean to be a celebrated illustrator. I have neither the talent or skill for that. But to be a man like him. He is not perfect, but it is in his flaws that I find comfort. The mistakes that he's made and his stumbles along the way that remind me that it's just part of the game. Like the ghost of George Plimpton said, "Show a little grace if you should fall."

The evening wound down. We walked out and stood on the porch in front of the restaurant a little while.

"If you ever need anything, you let me know," I told him. 

I say that a lot to people, but it rarely carries the same weight as when I say it to him. I've only ever had one chance to truly do something for him; to give a little bit back for all of the things that he's done for me. We both stood there and teared up a bit and promised to see each other soon.

Walking down the street in the dark I felt I'd been baptized.

Strikes and gutters.

A Press of Incredible Provenance

Once upon a time I entertained the thought of starting a private press using an old school letterpress. Let's be honest... I still do. So much so that I drove to Syracuse to pick up a Chandler & Price 10x15 letterpress, and later, a Pearl press.

Both of them now sit in my ex-wife's garage collecting dust.

Today I received an email which made me wish I was independently wealthy with plenty of ground floor studio space, or at least a loading dock and freight elevator. Jeff Dwyer is selling a press owned by the people who made me love letterpress and the black arts.

When I moved to Massachusetts, I answered an ad in the paper for a picture framer at R. Michelson Galleries in Northampton. I figured it was the type of job that I could work around my school schedule. When I arrived for the interview, I took a quick look around the gallery and settled in front of shelves filled with some of the most amazing books I'd ever seen... books the like of which I'd had no idea actually existed. They were hand made art books, printed on letterpress in velvety ink crushed into the paper such that you could feel it as much as see it.

It was this chance encounter that introduced me to the world of printmaking... a world I sadly don't spend as much time in as I'd like. I was also able to meet the people who created these books, two of whom were Leonard Baskin and Barry Moser. The first I only knew briefly and never got to work directly with him. The second became a mentor and friend.

Vandercook & Sons, Inc. No. 2 Proof Press

This press has a long history of ownership and use by some America’s most accomplished fine letterpress alumni. After being manufactured in Chicago around 1935-36, it’s a mystery who owned it and where it was used for the next twenty years. Around 1958, Richard Warren, the owner of Metcalf Printing & Publishing Co. in Northampton, MA gave the press to his friend, Leonard Baskin when Baskin moved his Gehenna Press from Worcester, MA to Northampton. In the summer of 1958, Baskin employed Harold P. McGrath as his pressman for the Gehenna Press, and McGrath continued using the press at Gehenna until 1976. While the press remained in use by McGrath, under his guidance probably more than a hundred young apprentices studied the craft and learned to print. In 1976, the press was moved from Gehenna to its new home at the Hampshire Typothetae at 30 Market St. in Northampton. For the next ten years, McGrath and Barry Moser used it for Moser’s Pennyroyal Press productions. When the Hampshire Typothetae closed and Pennyroyal Press assumed ownership of the Typothetae printing equipment, the press traveled to Linseed Road in West Hatfield, MA. Around, 1987, Moser sold all of the Gehenna/Typothetae/Pennyroyal printing equipment to Alan James Robinson and the Vandercook moved yet again to Easthampton, MA. Harold McGrath followed the equipment out the door, and he continued to use the press until 1998 when Robinson sold it to Elizabeth O’Grady. She moved it to New Hampshire where it has rested quietly. At some point during the years on Market Street, the cast iron drum handle was broken and a welded repair was made. The press is available for $2,500.00. It weighs approximately 675 pounds, and professionals should move it. This price does not include moving or shipping costs. Additionally, also available for $500.00 is a twenty-four-drawer type bank with assorted sizes of Caslon foundry type. Pictures of the press and type bank are available. Contact Jeff Dwyer at (413-5840761) or e-mail at: jpdwyer@dwyerogrady.com


I hope it finds a good home with the kind of person who understands just how many wonderful things it has seen. Good luck, little Vandy.

Quite the Salesman

In the gallery where I used to work we had an unofficial award that we bestowed when someone sold a particularly unsellable piece of artwork. It references one of the most amazing feats in sales I have ever seen.

One day, the gallery owner, Rich and I were in the gallery and a woman walks in and asks about one of our illustrators, Barry Moser. He happens to be a good friend, and has given me quite a few of his paintings. The gallery represents a number of well known children's book illustrators in addition to the fine art. Anyway, she asks if she can look at Barry's illustrations and mentions that she was looking for paintings of cats. So Rich pulls out a couple of pieces and she loves them. Then the question...

"How much are they?"

Most of Moser's full page illustrations start around $1000 and go up to $5000, which was way out of her league. She was budgeting at most around $350. Rich tried to find smaller pieces that might work, but there was really nothing that she liked. That's when he found it... at the bottom of the box of illustrations he did for a book about a dog and cat.

It was a full page illustration of a cat, from the rear, consisting of a tail, two legs and a very prominent, puckered anus.

She bought it... overjoyed that she would now own an original illustration by her favorite illustrator.

And thus was born 'The Cat Ass Award'.