Georg Gisze’s String Dispenser

Uncategorized

Some time ago, as a result of my sealing wax rabbit hole, I developed an interest in historical office supplies in general. There are a number of paintings and illuminations that depict these objects, but one of the best is Hans Holbein’s portrait of Georg Gisze from 1532.

Most of the items are immediately recognizable, but in the upper right corner of the image is an ornately decorated orb hanging from a hook. I had no idea what this might be until I ran across a random web page that nonchalantly identified it as a string dispenser. Once it was pointed out it seemed immediately obvious, as there is a piece of string dangling out the bottom of it. String is an important tool in a time before adhesive tape and other methods of securing things. It was used, among other things, for collecting papers together. In fact, the word “file” comes from the Latin word for string.

I searched for more examples of string dispensers, and there are a number of 19th and early 20th century examples, often of cast iron, in both tabletop and hanging form factors. I had wanted one for my office supplies display for some time, but I wasn’t able to find the right sort of sphere to start from at a price point that was reasonable for an admittedly silly project. It finally occurred to me that I could just 3D print what I needed, and my friend Wenyeva was able to hook me up.

It’s not immediately clear how Gisze’s dispenser works, but it seems obvious that it opens into a top and bottom half. The string coming out the top must somehow support the bottom, so I surmised that there were some sort of hooks or lugs on the inside of the bottom half to secure the suspension string. This would allow the top to be lifted to refill the string. Following this path, I sent Wenyeva a drawing and soon I had it in my hands.

I sanded the print to try to remove the print lines, and then applied several coats of spray primer and sanded those as well. Then I did several coats of blue acrylic paint for the base color. The decorative parts were done with two coats of yellow acrylic and one of gold metallic. The letters around the top half read CONIECTURA, because this is largely a work of conjecture.

The Spanish Dance

16th century, 16th century, Dance

A set of images titled “Der Spanichs Dantz” came to my attention from the Códice de trajes, a German costume book in the National Library of Spain. As we have no surviving dance treatises from Spain, I was immediately curious about what could be gleaned from these images.

The Clothes

The thing I find most interesting about the clothes is the manner in which the ladies are managing their skirts for dancing. The first two images show what seem to be upper class ladies with their outer skirts tucked up inside in the front, revealing the farthingales beneath. The third image shows outer skirts tucked up to the outside and perhaps pinned in back, and no farthingales below.

The Drum

Some of the comments on these images when I first found them were focused on the square object shown in the second and third images. Given the dance context and the way the object is held in both images, this seemed likely to be a frame drum. A quick search for square frame drums turned up the adufe, a square frame drum or tambourine of Moorish origin, commonly used on the Iberian peninsula. This seemed to be exactly the drum shown here. The terms daf or pandeiro show up as similar instruments, but searching those terms turns up round rather than square examples.

The Dance

In the context of the clothes and drum, we can look at the dance itself. The position of the dancers seems exceptionally lively, with arms lifted and torsos angled in ways that are uncommon for most European dances. Coupled with the origin of the drum shown, I suspect that these images may show what Arbeau describes in Orchesographie regarding the Maltese Branle:

Some of the Knights of Malta devised a ballet … in which an equal number of men and damsels, dressed in Turkish costume, danced a round branle, comprising certain gestures and twisting movements of the body, which they called the Maltese branle.

He also says that “It was some forty years ago that this branle was first danced in France”. Given that Orchesographie was published in 1589 and the Códice de trajes dates to 1540, the timeline seems to track as well.

Sealing Wax: The Perils of Historical Recreation

Historical Technology

I have been enjoying my research into period sealing wax, and recently applied wax I had made to a new apprentice contract. On my way home I stopped to eat, and the contract sat in a hot car for a couple of hours. This, perhaps unsurprisingly, caused the wax to melt and ruin the seals.

This serves as an object lesson on why sometimes we as modern people must make adjustments to how we do things relative to the historical people we are trying to emulate. The climate in Europe in the 16th century was cooler than it is here in the southern US, and they would likely not have left a sealed document in an enclosed metal box in the sun. Perhaps there are instances of seals melting in this way, and I am curious whether wax seals were ever used in hotter climates like North Africa. Shellac based sealing waxes may also be more resistant to this type of heat exposure.

In any case, I feel that it will be safest in the future to fall back to using modern waxes for important things like scrolls that are at risk of this sort of danger. For more ephemeral items like letters I will probably be willing to take my chances on my homemade wax.

Sealing Wax: Prepared Slices

Historical Technology

There are a number of images showing small sticks of sealing wax, presumably for applying directly to paper when writing letters.

What is not immediately clear is how wax is used when creating pendant seals that are attached to tags, tongues, and cords.

As noted by the Imprint Project, the Trinity College Cambridge MS R.14.37 manuscript contains a recipe that “when the wax mixture has solidified but is still warm, it should be ‘tossed’ between well-greased hands, rolled into a sausage, and sliced to form cakes.”

Maerten van Heemskerck’s 1529 portrait of Pieter Gerritsz shows another interesting detail. Next to his wood-handled seal matrix is what looks like a paper-wrapped packet of wax, surrounded by squares of paper. It seems to me that it would be convenient to have prepared wax slices packaged in this way, with bits of paper in between to prevent them sticking together.

My early experiments with cutting wax slices were frustrating. When the wax was still soft, I tried cutting it with a knife. The wax would stick to the knife and also deform, so it didn’t produce good slices. I also experimented with using wire to cut the wax, but the wires tended to break and didn’t cut as well as I’d hoped. I didn’t want to risk ruining a saw blade, but ultimately I found that a coping saw did a good job of cutting the hardened wax. It was melting as much as it was cutting, so gentle pressure and a vigorous sawing motion was required to cut slices without the risk of breakage. That said, the slices were still not the prettiest. In an attempt to start with the roundest log possible, I packed the soft wax in an oiled piece of PVC pipe and pushed it out once it had hardened (a few minutes in the freezer accelerated the process).

Once the slices were cut, I stacked them up with paper in between, and wrapped them in a larger piece of paper. I closed the seam of the wrapper with a melted bit of scrap wax, and closed the bottom of the packet similarly.

To use the slices, they can be held briefly over a flame to soften them. I made tongs to hold the slices safely during this process. The slices can then be sandwiched around a tag, or kneaded and molded in place.

There is definitely still a lot of experimentation to do with this method. I think that waiting for the ideal moment in the cooling process, when the wax is firm but not yet brittle, may be ideal for cutting good slices. Also using an oiled, sharp knife may work better than a saw. For a more anachronistic option, I suspect that an electric hot wire would do a good job of cutting the slices. In any case when the cutting method involves melting the wax, it is important to remove the slice quickly, before it solidifies again.

Sealing Wax: Attempt 3

Historical Technology

My second attempt at making sealing wax was a qualified success. It was a usable product, if not exactly what I had been hoping for. The key ingredient that improved it was pine resin, so I decided to look for an even better resin that was still easily sourced and relatively inexpensive. After some research, I decided to try using damar resin. Damar is used for encaustic painting, and so it easily found from art suppliers. It has a higher melting point than pine resin, which I guessed would make it harder at room temperature.

The damar resin crushed just as easily as the pine, and soon I was ready to start mixing up a new batch of wax. I started with a 2:1 ratio of wax to resin, melting the wax first as before and then adding the resin. I will note that damar does not have as strong an odor as either frankincense or pine, but melting it should probably be done with proper ventilation.

To make sure I could tell my two batches of wax apart, I decided to make this wax black. There are many instances of black wax visible in 16th century paintings of office scenes, and also I figured it would be appropriate for use on Meridian scrolls. Having no lampblack handy, I took some charcoal from the fire pit in my back yard and ran it through a coffee grinder I had bought at Goodwill. I sifted out the remaining chunks with a strainer and added it to the wax.

The resulting wax was gray and a little speckly, but definitely in the black range. It stretched when pulled apart, though it was still a bit grainy. It created an acceptable seal, if not quite as rigid as I would have liked.

I seemed to be on the right track, so I added another 75g of resin, bringing the total ratio to an even 1:1. I also added the rest of my powdered charcoal. I estimate the total amount to be about 1/4 cup.

After these additions, the result was a smooth, shiny, evenly colored wax. It was quite hard at room temperature, while readily softening with the application of a candle flame. It stretched with a smooth ribbon and took good impressions both on a tag and applied to paper.

Most importantly, the resulting seal did not bend at all, but instead broke in half.

I think that at this point I have found a good recipe for sealing wax that is simple to make, affordable, and usable. I have some more experiments to do and new colorants to try, but for now I am happy with the current product.

Sealing Wax: Attempt 2

Historical Technology

My first attempt at making beeswax-based sealing wax was a good start, but I needed to change things up and try to improve my end result. The main issue was the resin component, so I re-melted my first attempt and acquired some pine rosin. This was a much purer, clear resin that didn’t look like it would have a bunch of extra junk in it. I put the large chunks in small cast iron pan and gently broke them into smaller pieces with a hammer.

I added some of this new resin to the mixture, and it did indeed melt quickly and completely. I cooled, kneaded, and formed the result in to what would become known as “forbidden hot dogs”.

These were definitely an improvement over the first attempt. The wax was less crumbly and would create an acceptable applied seal.

The far right seal, with pine resin added

The seals were still quite pliable though, and easy to deform. If some resin was good, more must be better, so I added a generous amount of additional resin. After another round of cooling and forming, I found that the resulting wax had developed a smooth, shiny appearance I hadn’t seen up to this point.

The seals made with this wax were stiffer, and would crack if bent sharply. When the warm wax was pulled apart to make logs, it would create stretchy ribbons like melted cheese. This was similar to what I had seen with commercial waxes when applied to paper and pulled away. This was definitely a far better wax than the first attempt, and certainly a usable product.

Even completely cooled, however, the wax was still pliable, and it was quite sticky to the touch. It could be warmed enough to become malleable just by holding it in my hands for a few moments. While convenient for application purposes, it didn’t seem to be as durable as I would like. I also had done a lot of untracked experimentation at this point, and I wanted to have a reproducible recipe. Another attempt would be required.

Sealing Wax: Attempt 1

Historical Technology

While prepping for a class on using wax seals for RUM, I decided that I needed some hands on experience with beeswax-based (as opposed to shellac-based) sealing wax. That meant that I had to make some of my own. I read up on some other people’s experiences, and then decided to take a crack at it.

I knew that I would need three things: beeswax for the base, resin for hardness and stickiness, and a colorant. I wanted to use readily available materials, so I got some beeswax pellets and frankincense tears on Amazon, and some red liquid candle dye from Michaels.

Everything I need to get started!

I started with a 4:1 ratio of beeswax to frankincense. I melted the wax first in a saucepan I got at Goodwill, then added the frankincense.

The wax melted fine, but the frankincense didn’t work quite so well. I had expected it to take longer to melt, so I kept it on the heat and stirred well past the point when it stopped foaming. I was left with a bunch of granules on the bottom of the pot that just wouldn’t melt. It smelled great, but didn’t seem to be working as I’d hoped.

I think that since the frankincense was intended for use as incense and wasn’t a purified resin, there was a lot of gum in the tears that wasn’t going to dissolve in the wax. When I strained out the granules and soaked them in water, they ended up soft and gummy. I thought about trying to find a use for them, but ended up just throwing them away.

I poured the wax onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, and kneaded it together wearing nitrile gloves coated with cooking spray. Eventually I was able to create logs to test with.

I cut slices and softened them in hot water, then sandwiched them around a piece of cord to try to make a seal tag.

It technically worked, but the end result was flexible and crumbly, not the hard sort of seal that I was hoping for. Attempting to apply the wax directly to paper gave similarly underwhelming results. The melted as was thin and watery, and didn’t really take an impression at all.

I re-melted the wax and added more frankincense, hoping that I could extract enough useful resin to create a usable seal. While the color worked fine, the end results were pretty much the same.

Ultimately, this attempt allowed me to start figuring out my process, but I was still far from the product I was trying for.

Making A Gat

Korean

In my previous post about the gat, I noted that the reproductions you can buy are the later, cylindrical shape. I wanted to see if I could make the round crown shape myself.

The traditional method of making a gat is far beyond my ability, so anything I did would have to be an approximation. The shape, color, and transparent mesh look were what I was primarily trying to achieve. After some searching and experimenting with materials, I settled on using sinamay, a woven fiber material used for modern millinery. I built the crown on a wooden form and made the brim flat, then sewed them together and added a cloth binding over the join. I added hooks just like I did for my purchased gat to attach the gatkkeun.

I stiffened the fabric with Mod Podge and thinned wallpaper paste, which did a pretty good job but didn’t hold up well to humidity. I may try adding another type of stiffener to make it more water-resistant. I would also like to try making a more rounded brim next time to improve rigidity and get closer to some of the shapes seen in the portraits.

The form for the crown started as a serious of wooden discs.
The discs were glued together and then turned on a lathe to get the right shape.
At first I tried simply stretching the cloth over the form, but there was too much at the base to get it smooth.
To take up the extra bulk, I added a seam at the back of the crown.
I added more layers to get the right amount of opacity, then sewed all the layers together in the back and added the stiffener.
The brim started with an oversized circle drawn on a piece of cardboard.
The crown form was placed in the center of the circle.
Plastic wrap on the cardboard to keep the stiffener from soaking into it.
The first layer of sinamay laid out.
Two more layers were added, stiffened, and trimmed to a (still oversized) circle.
More stiffener was added.
A line of glue around the edge to further stabilize it.
Sewing through the glued edge to lock the layers together.
Sewing through the layers at the inside edge.
The nearly completed brim.
Hanging to let the stiffener dry.
Adding a fabric edge to the trimmed brim.
After assembling the crown and brim, it looked a bit too tall.
The final product, with a shortened crown.

Sonnet: “They say that it’s the clothes that make the man”

Poetry

They say that it’s the clothes that make the man
And show you who he is with but a glance:
A silk and velvet dandy with a fan;
A huntsman clad in wool and leather pants.

Likewise a lady’s character is known
By viewing her sartorial array:
A modest mouse in veils with nothing shown;
A courtesan with assets on display.

This all presumes the contents never change
And clothing only names the thing within,
But outfits are a snap to rearrange
And we may live each day in different skin.

Our clothes are opportunities for art,
A shining stained glass window to our heart.

 

This was written for La Magnifica Justina di Silvestri and Maestro Ambrosius di Silvestri

Mystery Objects: A Research Journey

Research

Recently, Mistress Christianna posted a question about a couple of images:

Here’s a mystery for you. These 2 implements were found on the Iberian peninsula (I don’t know which part) and they date back to 1,000-1,200 ad. No one knows what they were used for. They were found in women’s tombs so the experts think they may have been used for hygiene. I can’t imagine how they might have been used, but that’s the theory.
The only other information was that they were about 4 inches long. This was a really interesting journey so I wanted to document it here.
I didn’t have any immediate idea what these objects were, but given the similar and specific shape (ring at bottom, bump at midpoint, decoration on top) they seemed to be a specific sort of implement that required that form.
I started with a reverse Google image search that turned up a lot of andirons and cigarette tongs and things that clearly weren’t right. They did get me thinking about other things it might be, though.
Taking a guess at what it might be after looking at all these implements, I tried searching “medieval metal stirring rod”. Perhaps the loop on the bottom was for mixing up something like a whisk? This led me to the following item (with a bunch of very interesting similar objects below):
I visited the Met item and it definitely seemed to be on the right track, but glass and Roman was not quite metal and Medieval Spain, and also the form wasn’t quite right (no bump, no decoration). But this seemed like the right direction so I doubled down and tried again with ‘medieval metal “stirring rod”‘. The quotes helped improve my results and turned up this image:
Which took me to Pinterest:
Metal now, and the shape is getting closer, but still Roman. Before I even visited this Met link, though, I looked down in the related images and saw this:
Aha! Now I seemed to be onto something. I clicked through and found a scan of a book from the Louvre with a bunch of items like what I was looking for, but of course it was in French. They seemed to refer to these items as “quenouille”, so I googled the term and (in addition to finding a lot of images of cattails) found that it meant “distaff”. Given that these were items from women’s graves, I seemed to be very close now. The only distaffs I was familiar with were the long pole type, but I figured maybe somehow these fitted on the top? So I searched “distaff metal end loop” and the very first result was this:
Bingo! Lots of these items with the same form, in various materials, often misidentified as stirring rods or other objects. Many of them even had birds on top. I feel confident that this is what I was looking for. I’m looking forward to seeing what metal workers, glass workers, and spinners can learn from making and using these.