Art of the Book, Vol. 5

Gangolf Ulbricht - Papermaker

Often times, book collectors can focus on intricate bindings, beautiful art, marbled paper, and a host of other wonderful components of a well-made book. These are all the things that make books worth collecting and cherishing, but at the end of the day, of core importance to the readability, longevity, and tactile experience is the paper, the thing that truly makes a book possible. We have long respected the work of Gangolf and are so excited that we finally got to have this conversation with him. His work, a fusion of European and Japanese papermaking, has most recently been used in the lettered and roman numeral productions of Faun from Conversation Tree Press, but the use of his paper expands to areas far beyond fine press books. His perspective on the tradition and the art of papermaking is refreshing and hopeful in respect to the future of this artisan craft. We hope you enjoy the conversation!

Q: Your paper has been used in some incredible productions throughout the fine press world and we are so excited that you were able to make time for this interview. Tell us about the evolution of your career and what led you to the world of handmade paper. Was there anything in your early childhood or education that pointed you in this direction?

I grew up in East Germany behind the wall, in the countryside near Dresden on a small farm. My family did not conform to the communist system as they were Protestants, staying independent for centuries. They worked hard and were self-made, embedded in the food and culture of the area, with a general sense for good. I could not go to high school, because of repression at the time, but in East Germany, we had a specialized education option. The government offered a three-year apprenticeship for every craft profession, which included also the high school content, but without music and biology. The political goal was to get craft-trained people who would later study technologies at University. So, you could learn to be a butcher or shoemaker and the expectation was to continue later in food technology or leather technology respectively.

Many of the politically rejected high school kids used that possibility to get a degree and to try to enter University later. So, I learned industrial papermaking in the most modern paper factory in Schwedt, north of Berlin in East Germany, 1980-83 and thought that I could later switch to something more interesting at University, but again, failed. So, I decided to enter the Technical University in Dresden and studied paper engineering and cellulose technology, finishing in 1988 with a diploma. It was very serious technological study, very profound. Dresden was at that time a burgeoning city filled with art, music, and theater. I studied Monday to Friday during the day and into the nights, but the weekends I spent immersed in the art scene and underground culture of Dresden.

When I finished University, I was hired by the Institute of Paper and Cellulose, the central research institute for that industry. I initially started in research in Cellulose Technology, but in 1988 the economy in East Germany was starting to collapse, and it was an absolutely frustrating job. Every industry is developed out of a craft, so during my education I learned little about hand papermaking – but I dreamed about having my own papermaking workshop, making quality paper for artists and printers (there was none on the legal market with our form of Socialism), and pave an independent niche in that country. So, I started by myself, but slowly.

When the wall fell in 1989, I moved a day later from Dresden to Berlin, because I realized that everything had changed and Berlin would be the place to chase my dream. This was the place where East and West came together and there would be so many possibilities for my craft. I started quickly, catching up on the things I hadn't been able to pursue previously in the East and studied art history, prehistory, and library science.

Even though I enjoyed my studies, I realized that these fields were too theoretical for me, I needed to translate my thoughts into a tangible product, made by hand. So, I went back to papermaking and decided to set up my own studio in Berlin, a creative hot spot, and also very affordable at that time. I traveled to various places, visited paper museums and met with hobby papermakers. I even got one incredible internship with paper/ book artist John Gerard and another one at Moulin du Verger with Jac Brejoux in France.

I finally opened my workshop in 1992 at Kunstquartier Bethanien, a multifunctional cultural institution, based in a former protestant beautifully brick-walled hospital from 1848. Here I was offered room by the Print Workshop of the Berlin Artist Union and little by little, I acquired the raw materials and tools I needed to make paper (some from closed Eastern Germany paper companies). This is when I started realizing my dream of making paper for artists and developed my studio and craft further.

Q: You are known for employing a unique combination of techniques and approaches from European and Asian papermaking traditions. Can you tell us a little bit about your year in Japan and why you chose to live there and study that specific methodology and material used in papermaking?

When searching for quality in papermaking you need to travel back further and further, eventually discovering the beautiful European papers of the 14th and 15th centuries. Then, you continue further back in paper history, eventually coming to Arab and Asian paper. I felt it was essential to go to the roots of the craft to get a deeper understanding of paper. China is an incredibly large country and there are too many different papers and places throughout, so I decided to go to Japan because their paper has a very high level of refinement that I admire and a rich tradition of literature in a small geographical space. They are also incredibly talented at pairing tradition with innovation. After five years of independent work, slowly getting income from where I could, I thought that it was now or never. I applied for a one-year scholarship (I wanted to experience a full change of seasons), learned Japanese, got an invitation from Mr. Naito Tsuneo, a brilliant papermaker at the foot of Mt. Fuji, and traveled there in December of 1997.

Mr. Naito works alone in his studio, making paper from all three main Japanese fibers (Kozo, Mitsumata and Gampi) and has a reverence for tradition. Finding myself on the other side of the globe in the countryside in an opposite culture caused a great deal of reflection. I went there to learn primarily technological things, with an engineer mindset – and I realized I had more to learn about myself, which ended up being a difficult but valuable experience.

Gangolf paper used in the Lettered Edition of Faun from Conversation Tree Press*

Anyway, the papermaking fibers, their preparation, the way of making the sheets, the use of the paper, the cultural context, everything was massively different than Europe. They have an unbroken tradition in Japan, while in Europe, traditional papermaking changed with industrialisation, and a lot of knowledge was lost. I was very lucky to get in contact with talented papermakers, although most of my time I spent with Naito Tsuneo, working alongside him. When there wasn’t much more to do than clean the studio, I took the opportunity to travel around and stayed one or more days in different papermaking locations. Even though I could speak only a little bit of Japanese, I was able to get them to understand that I was only going to be there for one year and I truly wanted to understand their methods and craft. The majority of the people I worked with were open-minded and shared their knowledge, which is not necessarily normal. They allowed me to practice in their workshops, working to understand what they do, growing my own body of knowledge. After one year practicing my craft throughout the countryside of Japan, I took home a host of new techniques, equipment, and experience.

Q. Taking that knowledge back to Berlin, where you currently have your workshop, what did you borrow from each tradition and why did you feel like the synthesis of these processes could create something greater than the parts? How is this representative of your personal passion and pursuit of quality in papermaking?

After one year of diving into Japanese paper and living in their culture, I did not anticipate how hard it was going to be to come back. It was a complete culture shock. I worked for an entire year to assimilate to the lifestyle in the countryside while earning their respect and convincing them to share their knowledge and craft.

Coming back home where Berlin felt rude, superficial, ignorant, loud, without refinement, and a city which constantly changes was jarring. It took me three months to find myself again. I tabled everything I learned in Japan for a time and restarted my European papermaking, but began to refine my papermaking more and more. I started gradually entering the conservation paper world and started to teach and share my knowledge with conservators, students, and other professionals.

 We live in a specialized world, in bubbles so to speak, so anything interdisciplinary presents a refreshing atmosphere. After some time, I slowly started integrating Japanese papermaking aspects into my papermaking. I refer to it as “fusion cooking” and by synthesizing the knowledge and materials from Eastern and Western papermaking I was able to create new paper and artwork by combining the best of both for an intended purpose.

 The 2gsm Berlin Tissue is such a special paper that we make for paper conservators and based on that paper I decided to make Nano Tissue in 4gsm, which combines modern Nano Cellulose with traditional Nasu Kozo and Suruga Mitsumata from Japan, also for paper conservators.

To make large sheets up to two to three meters, I use the floating mould technique, which was the first used when the Chinese started making paper more than 2000 years ago. And I have a way of making it by myself, without the assistance of another person.

I created a 35sqm room divider in 2006 for the new Canadian Embassy using 3.5m long sheets. This included pulp painting, watermarked text, making the paper fireproof and waterproof, and allowing it to roll up and down like a curtain, on a roll in the ceiling (I used Asian mulberry fibers). Formation aid is used in Asian papermaking, and sometimes I use it to create very thin paper with European fibers and tools. Momigami is a Japanese technique I implemented to create special surface effects recently for a series of artist’s works and for fashion design. This was a technique I learned more than 25 years ago and now an opportunity to use it has finally presented itself.

I try to research and learn solutions using different techniques to be able to implement these into new papers and projects that will come into demand in the future. If I can offer new things to artists then I can continually attract them to my paper.

Q: Though you are based in Berlin, your business is truly global. You supply paper for countless different types of purposes all around the world. Being such a tactile and personal craft, what are the challenges of doing something so focused for such a wide and diverse base of clients (restorers, artists, bookbinders, architects, photographers, etc.)?

I see my daily work as craft. Making hundreds of sheets of paper has a repetitive nature, so it is necessary to rely on your skills and center yourself. A musician trains their basic skills every morning but has only a few concerts a year they are working towards.

The different demands from various clients broaden my repertoire and challenge me consistently. Every new order pushes me further, sometimes in a completely new direction, but sometimes just into my concentrated daily rhythm.

Q: The process of making paper can be seen in many different lights, both mechanical and artistic. When making paper for a particular commission, there are overlapping aspects of the craft. There is a repeatable physical process used in making handmade paper, and on the other side, your personal artistic expression that guides each project. As you reflect on your own work, to what degree do you see the process of making paper as an artistic act versus a machinable process, and is there any need for distinction?

Paper is a silent servant. When I make a paper, I want to know how it will be used. So, I try to get the best composition of fibers into it or some special additives to create a paper that fulfills the intended purpose technically and aesthetically.

A paper being used for a book cover is different than a paper used in printing and digital printing is different from letterpress or etching.

A handmade product should please us in a way a mass product never can, because there is refinement in, based on curated raw material and the artisan’s expertise and experience. Artisans will use machinery and tools when it makes sense, but to using a machine to avoid a certain step in the craft process will markedly change the product. For example, I mix/agitate the pulp in my papermaking vat with an akku drill-mixer, because it saves physical labour, which I did spend for years, but now after using the mixer for a time, I still put my hand in the vat and move it one round to gain back that feeling of the consistency and process.

Q: Much ink has been spilled on the importance of the work of Johann Gutenberg and the printing press, which was the catalyst for the accelerated dissemination of information and collection of ideas. Yet, these ideas needed to be expressed through a medium that was sustainable for centuries and preserved. You have often spoken of the power of paper in this regard. Why do you think this still matters in a digital age that is trying to distance itself further from this method of information transfer?

Modern storage mediums need energy and machinery, we have to keep reinventing at a faster pace to keep it updated. When I find a floppy disk from the 80s in the trash container, I cannot simply read what is on it, I need a machine. When I find a handwritten letter I can read it, without any intermediary machine.

Well-made paper can last for centuries, but with modern media, the longevity is less known.

Even now we still see war on earth, and with more and more digitized, the digital part of our lives is so easy to interrupt as we have seen. Paper may burn or be lost, but if we were to lose power all at the same time, there would be such a massive loss in our capacity. And the next declaration for peace will be signed on paper again.

Q: You have said that paper can have the power of life and death, can you dive into that with a little more detail and talk about why you think paper is so powerful in general?

We live in civilisation and have complex regulations. I grew up in a dictatorship, this imbued a special respect for the power of paper. We were flooded with propaganda prints and were forced to give forbidden books from hand to hand to read truth.

Gangolf paper used in the Roman Numeral Edition of Faun from Conversation Tree Press*

Paper is something physical, handwriting is a direct physical expression. To hold a letter from an ancestor of your family in your hand and read about the lives of your distant relations before you existed has an energy that you could not get with an audio book (I also enjoy audio books). We are now more and more focused on screens, only the eye has to take in the information, but humans are tactile and I truly believe we miss something with a less multi-sensory experience.

Paper has a rich tradition and history, and if it is not used in one purpose it will pop up in another. Paper is multitalented, because the basic unit – cellulose – is so versatile. We are seeing a revival in paper wrapping, as we are starting to realise what plastic does in our world. Papermaking can be a recycling process, from waste paper to waste textiles, a lot of material can go into paper. Cellulose grows everywhere, there are large possibilities for the future of paper, especially for small businesses in developing countries.

Q: For those outside of the realm you spend all your time in, the first thing that one might envision when the word “paper” is mentioned may be a standard page of stark white printer paper. In your world though, paper can have texture, rigidity, tone, reflection, and color, measured on a multitude of continuums. How do you determine what a particular project calls for when it comes to these different aspects?

Papermaking is like cooking, I have a wide range of raw materials, fibers, some necessary additives for special qualities (digital printing, etc.) and a traditional papermaker hollander, a machine to beat the fibers to the quality you want (fiber length, fiber surface). These machines are old ones, restored continuously for my needs. They have a roll with bars and a bedplate, placed in a basin, which I fill with water and fibers. When I lower the roll, the gap between the bedplate and roll gets smaller and the fibers get worked out, I change their surface and dimension, increase the binding capacity for the fibers later on during sheet making.

As an example, if I beat recycled newspaper for five minutes I get grey toilette paper, if I beat linen, hemp fibers for four hours I get strong paper like banknote paper (the traditional format, not the new plastic-based kind), if I beat manila hemp for twelve hours I get transparent architecture drawing paper. Also, I can add pigments and other additives if needed into the beater to get a to the final product I desire. The beater is my kitchen, here you make the paper, as old papermakers say.

If you don`t beat the paper well, forget it.

At the vat, when making the sheets, I have a big collection of different historical English hand papermaking moulds, made from mahogany, roughly 100 years old, with different wire, so I can get slightly different textures in my paper. Besides that, I have also built a few moulds myself to expand the possibilities of what I can do.

Finally, I can smooth the dried paper in a colander. I use an etching press and run sheet by sheet between special glazing cardboards to improve the surface if necessary. Some letterpress printers want to have a voluminous paper to create an imprint/embossing by the letter into the paper, so the inexperienced person can distinguish it from offset/digital print. Other letterpress printers prefer a smooth paper and the letter should just kiss the paper and give a delicate imprint. Of course, many times a new order will require me to experiment to match the client’s demands, like a special color. In this case, I have to make samples myself.

Q: Most people who have engaged in the buying and appreciation of fine press books know the beauty of handmade paper, but few of us know the specifics of what goes into the process. Our readers are generally very interested in the processes involved creating the different aspects of the books they cherish. What goes into the preparation and process of making your paper?

There is a lot of manual labour in the process, filling the beater with the right ingredients (fibers, pigments, etc.), gauging the time to prepare the stock of pulp which is used, setting up the vat with the right mould (maybe preparing a special size and watermark for the edition), and usually making test sheets.

At the vat I have to make every sheet the right weight throughout, couch on woven woolen felts, and then repeat until the wet post (pile of felts and fresh paper) comes into the press, dewatering in the hydraulic press. After pressing I place the damp sheets in my drying box where they dry with cold air for around 48 hours. Next, I take them out and sort them by quality and weight and of course, I always make more sheets than the actual order (sometimes up to 25% more), depending on the concentration needed or interruptions during my work. So, the studio is full of leftovers from all the special makings, a treasure for visiting bookbinders, conservators, and connoisseurs.

Not to forget the aftermath of cleaning up after the order, washing the felts by hand (they are 40-year-old ones and precious), cleaning the beater (hours when making colored pulp), careful packing the order, shipping and dealing with the stress that comes when a delivery company sends a parcel to Doha, Qatar instead of Vienna, and waiting for the payment. And I am continuously on the search for good fibers for future projects, because sometimes the little producers that I use may suddenly close or change what they have available.

Q: What are a few of the most interesting projects you have been commissioned to do? What made these particularly exciting and what challenges did they present?

An artist, Christiane Baumgartner, called me once, around 22 years ago, and asked me about unusually large sheets. I answered: "My door is two meters tall and two meters wide, but it can be as long as she needed".

At that time, I had never made paper larger than 70 x 100 cm before. The next day she called me and said, “I need sheets that are around 4.5m x 1.5m.” I had one sleepless night wrestling with how to manage something of that scope with no assistants, not enough space, and a lack of tools and experience to create something that large. But I found the solution in the floating mould process and we made it with only two people, me and my assistant.

Transall by Christiane Baumgartner

She printed her first large woodblock: Transall, which became her signature work and was the breakthrough in her international career. We made a lot more paper for her and large formats are now one of the things we do best.

I got an inquiry to remake a machine-made paper which was used by the College of Arms in London for handwriting with a steel nib and hand coloring. Their stock of paper had completely run out. I made several test sheets and tested with steel nib and color, erasing mistakes by blade and rewriting. and finally, the paper was accepted by the client. Because of that superior quality this paper also performs great when used for digital printing, which was never a primary concern or goal of mine before that time. Normally industrial paper for digital print is coated, mine are not.

Over the years I did several research projects with industrial partners, co-financed by the government. One was 3D-printing with cellulose fibers for medical test pads, it was initially just an idea, but after three years we had satisfactory results. Another was the use of nanofibers in papermaking, where we actually created a new form of conservation tissue. And during COVID, I had some time to start chipping away at my long to-do list, so I finally found the time to explore making dark and light/shadow custom watermarks in paper (the kind that everyone knows from banknotes). If you send me a pdf with a b/w motif, you will get it as a watermark on a sheet of paper back.

Q: What would be one or two important pieces of advice you would give someone who is interested in dipping their toe into handmade paper, whether their expectation is to just have fun or actually create a useable paper that could be used in fine press books? What is something you wish you would have been told at the beginning of your journey into papermaking?

Papermaking is a physical work, so you should enjoy hard work, it is a marathon, not a sprint. But to have the whole process in your hand is so rewarding, to transform rigid material into a liquid solution and dip your mould in and create a sheet which pleases you with a nice grip or sound or color at the end is very satisfying. You become a creator.

But you need a lot more patience than you might expect. It is a passion, not a job to earn money. I can earn money because I also teach, do research jobs, and am always open to new possibilities. For me it has always been a passion (sometimes bordering obsession), but as long as you do something special that you are passionate about, it can turn into a world with endless potential for growth.

Q: You have said you believe that the craft you are taking part in will make a comeback, and is already in process of a resurgence. What do you think the future of paper is and what are some of the most exciting places you are seeing interest growing in this ancient art form?

There will be always a need for quality in paper but the demand will always ebb and flow. Traditional papermaking will decline in some areas and then an interested outsider will recover the beauty of paper and start new workshops, bringing fresh blood in to continue helping the craft evolve. There are traditional papermaking families in Asia, that have produced quality paper for generations and they will continue on for many more. There is also a great revival of papermaking by hand at the Paper Foundation in the UK they have the kind of team and spirit to continue the tradition.

There are so many different aspects in the process of papermaking – raw material, preparation, the rhythm of sheet forming, finishing – it is truly an attractive ritual in our digitized world.

“Tradition does not mean to look after the ash, but to keep the flame alive” - Jean Jaures

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This interview was done in a series of communications back and forth with Gangolf and we want to give our sincerest thanks for all his time and openness. If you want more information on his work and where to get his paper then check out his website.

A few years ago there was a beautiful mini-documentary on Gangolf's work and we would highly recommend that you watch it if you are interested in hearing directly from him about his work and perspective on art.

Interview by: Zach Harney co-founder of the Collectible Book Vault

*Photographs shared by Tony Geer from Conversation Tree Press