THE NEW MOON MONITOR

1 September 2025, 6:20 a.m. (Labor Day), and the 2nd around the same time;
Not the new moon at all, but several days past the first quarter.
How about just one of these:
[sigh]
Very little to report, but in the name of staying the course, I shall put together what I can. This edition of the Monitor comes from Massachusetts, specifically the continental breakfast room within a brand new and quite fancy feeling Comfort Inn and Suites in Hadley, between Amherst and Northampton. It’s pretty here (above, the Montague Book Mill [where I found some books I don’t need] beyond the waterfall on the Saw Mill River). There have been many hotel stays all summer, as I have been working the long distance cemetery routes, leaving the closer-to-home work to my very competent crew, which I am extremely grateful to have, but also leaving virtually no time (as usual) for creative pursuits. Many of those multi-day trips have been spent with my daughter, Beatrix, whom we are delivering to her Hogwarts, Smith College, for her sophomore year.

During her second semester at Smith, Beatrix had the good fortune of an independent study with one of the heavyweights of wood engraving and letterpress printing in the United States, Mr. Barry Moser, during his final semester of teaching. The print above was done at Smith, where she methodically organized a case of 16 pt Centaur to be more like the type drawers in Der Klubhaus: tidy. In the print you can observe, as she did first hand, the misaligned type, which is the result of at least two different foundries, or at least two different castings, of the same typeface. I think we can all agree that as long as the type is clean and the printing even, that irregular baseline of the misaligned type does not really detract from the beauty of this print, but maybe even adds to it as a measure of authenticity.

As a student of English literature, Beatrix happened to be taking a class focused on George Eliot’s Middlemarch and the Mill on the Floss, and selected passages from each for her prints at the Apriary Press. This summer she put together another in Der Klubhaus, this time featuring a passage from Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. I have listed all her prints, along with her poetry book from nearly two years ago, For Dust I Am, on Etsy. As far as selling prints goes, it will be interesting to see if she is onto something here with printing passages from famous, well-loved books. Ironically, it seems like a no-brainer but something I could never do, simply because I don’t have the brains to read enough to find the passages!
DAVID STEINGASS
This beautiful book, by this giant poet.
[sigh]

Above, the first two granite tiles engraved to print the jackets for the 20 hardcover copies (below), locked up in the press, ready to print. That is as far I have been able to get.

Well, no. Actually I engraved a second pair of tiles (below). The tiles will print in reverse, that is, the negative space around the letters, which is the surface of the granite, will print black. The first tiles engraved are Chinese “Abolute Black” granite, the same that is used for nearly all veterans’ memorials across the country. It was easy to source. But as I was thinking about how it will print, I noticed the grain of that black granite is very tight and even, and I would rather see a more uneven texture on these prints. The tiles below are something called Baltic Brown granite, which has a much more inconsistent grain pattern. Aside from the preferred texture, David is surely more Baltic than he is Chinese. Sadly, I dropped one of them after engraving it. There’s no reason the cracked tile won’t print, and therefore I intentionally dropped the other one (twice) so they would both be cracked, but of course the second one wouldn’t crack. I suppose I could have dropped it from a greater height, but I wasn’t really looking for it to break into a bunch of little pieces, so I quit trying. Maybe I’ll try again once I see how the cracked one prints.

David and I met for coffee last week to talk about how we’re going to sell these books. As we talked about the different avenues, which include wholesale to book stores, scheduled readings, library talks, websites, and online sales, I recognized that I am working with a man who has not only written an excellent book of poems, but has spent a lifetime writing a LOT of excellent poetry, with his first book, Body Compass, published in 1969 by The University of Pittsburgh Press. Fittingly, I have been reading his second collection of poems, American Handbook (1973), on this road trip. While he has covered many subjects within his poems over the past 56 years (essentially during my entire lifetime), his style remains consistent. David paints fantastic images with his words, with a cadence comforting like an easy chair, occasionally punctuated with perfectly timed pauses or rushes of excitement. So now here I am thinking that I am the publisher of this gentleman’s poetry, and over the course of life his poems have never received all the attention they deserve, but it’s not too late and now is the time, and somehow it is up to me to figure out how to do my job, which is to turn lovers of words and poems onto this very refined master of the craft.

STONES WATCH IN SILENCE
And so, as all the stones are watching in silence while this year’s cemetery work season comes to a close, my priority shall become promoting Mr. Steingass and his fine poems, and finding ways to sell these two versions of his most recent work, both softcover trade copies and limited edition hardcovers.

THANK YOU
Speaking of poems, stones, and cemeteries, we stopped by the grave of Emily Dickinson in the West Cemetery in Amherst and it is covered with little stones. A classic mid-19th century marble slab. The raised lettering is sort of unique, and the wording CALLED BACK in place of simply DIED is notable. In nearly 15 years of working in 500+ cemeteries I have never seen that before.
Thank you, as always, for your interest in what I have to share, and your support of The Heavy Duty Press. Replies, comments, and purchases always welcome.
ENJOY THE FULL HARVEST MOON 7 SEPT 2025
This edition The New Moon Monitor was written, edited, and sent over the course of two mornings during a 2nd annual trip to western Massachusetts. Please excuse typos and misspellings. Thank you.
THE NEW MOON MONITOR

27 July 2025, 11:14 a.m. (Sunday) | Threes day after the New Sturgeon Moon
Here in Wisconsin there is a tradition of going “up north” to the lake country for a summer vacation, or at least that is how it seemed growing up in Milwaukee in the southeast corner of the state. I’m not sure how many people here in southwest Wisconsin do it…we have only been living here twenty years and in that time haven’t found many occasions to ask anyone what they do for summer vacations. My impression is that they are content with their proximity to the Mississippi River. But that river is not a lake. What I can tell you is that our favorite campground was at 15% occupancy last week, which served us well, but is a also a real head scratcher for me…how can it be that with millions people living in Wisconsin, only my wife and I and our two daughters have any interest in swimming in this lake?

Our younger daughter, Beatrix, happened to be looking over my shoulder when I was editing the photos for this newsletter and promptly told me I shouldn’t reveal the secret location of our campsite in this newsletter, so I won’t. My wife and I found this campground in 2003, and brought our older daughter, Katrina, here to camp (in same tent pictured below, but not the same site) when she was a baby. We returned annually to this campground for several years, with our last visit being in 2012 (at the same site pictured below).

The big difference this year, other than the world feeling completely different state than it did in 2012, is the addition of a second tent. Katrina requested and received her very own tent as a gift upon graduating from the University of Wisconsin (BFA) this past May. The other obvious difference is that we are all 13 years further along in life, which didn’t alter our activities much, but you can bet there were many moments of reflection for this sentimental old dog.

Same canoe. From this particular camp site, you can walk down a fairly steep bank through the woods to a miniature private beach. I consider it a beach because there is no vegetation in an area about 10 feet wide and 15 feet into the water. Once you are that far in, you might as well be swimming, so who cares if there’s vegetation down there? I know I don’t. This is a lake, for Pete’s sake!

Paddling to the north end of the lake leads you to narrow passage loaded with lily pads (cue Kermit the Frog’s banjo) which could take you to the neighboring lake, but we have never gone that far. This particular little lake, with absolutely no visible human construction around the entire perimeter other than a boat launch and the small public beach, and no motors allowed, leaves nothing to be desired. Swimming in the middle of this lake without anyone there to witness it is a heavenly moment indeed. I hope these photos give you a good sense of the peace that can be found in nature, and possibly even encourage you to find a quiet place to go swim in a lake this summer.
If you really want to know the location, please ask.

CREATIVELY SPEAKING…
Also the same as thirteen years ago, the primitive camp set-up, including a simple tarp over the picnic table, where once upon a time I acknowledged to myself that I would rather work on collages during precious time off work than go fishing. The same collage suitcase came along on this trip, and while nothing was finished, I finished a lot of cutting for a few projects in the works.

The first is a series of Scottish landscapes from a book purchased in Berwick-Upon-Tweed in 2018, with prints (from books) of fish paintings by Hashime Murayama, a variety of zeppelins, and images of real life human beings from the 1929 edition of the Grolier Society’s Lands & Peoples books.



This is all a work in progress that began earlier this spring when I began cutting out the fish during hotel desk collage labs while on the road engraving final dates on grave stones. Around that same time, I re-watched an old instructional video about collage animations by Terry Gilliam, and found it very easy to be entertained by the idea of creating my first animated short film. Earlier this morning I purchased the armature to hold my phone for photographing frames for the film.

Oeurves by Jean Racine is another collage project that started earlier this year, also built upon a travel experience. This book was purchased from an outdoor used book dealer along the banks of the Siene in 2023.


Frankly, I don’t know the first thing about Jean Racine or French literature, but the dealer assured me that these stories are important and every student of French literature would have studied them. What I do know is I love the steel engraving illustrations, and I found it interesting to hold them up to the natural background of the campsite to document my cutting. There are about ten of them. They are pretty small, and I have been thinking about constructing them in sardine tins.

STONES WATCH IN SILENCE
A big project still not quite finished: A new book of poems by David Steingass (resident of Madison, Wisconsin and author of Native Son at Home ).This new book features eighteen stone-themed poems by David, complemented with photographs primarily by Brent Nicastro (also a Madison resident). The soft cover copies are done and currently for sale at Pearl Street Books in La Crosse and the Viroqua Public Market. The limited edition hard cover copies are also done, waiting for me to print the dust jackets for them. My sincere apologies to David for not having all of this finished by now, but he knows full well how hard it is to find time for everything during these busy summer months. It will be worth the wait.

THANK YOU
Last but not least, the band formerly known as Nimoy has been renamed Secret Weapon, and we enjoyed our debut live performance at the first annual Kickapalooza International Footbag Festival in Viroqua last weekend (complete with bubble machine). Thank you, as always, for your interest in what I have to share, and your support of The Heavy Duty Press. Replies, comments, and purchases always welcome.
ENJOY THE FULL STURGEON MOON 9 AUGUST 2025
This edition The New Moon Monitor was written, edited, and sent from an air conditioned room on another hot and humid summer of 2025 morning in one hour and twenty-eight minutes, which might be a new record. Time to get out to Holy Hollow to do some printing in Der Klubhaus with Beatrix Wren while she is still home from school! Please excuse typos and misspellings. Thank you.
26 June 2025, 9:55 a.m. (Thursday) | A day after the New Buck Moon
Baskerville for Brummies
Michael KoppaOlde Goats
THE REVISED
NEW MOON MONITOR
Please accept my apologies for this duplicate in your inbox!
This morning I noticed a glaring error in the opening sentence of the Baskerville for Brummies announcement and felt it just made the entire thing too confusing right from the start. The links embedded in the photos have also been corrected. Please don’t let this move you to unsubscribe. Thank you for your patience and understanding. :)

Hello, friends, and welcome to summertime 2025. The open studio event during the Winding Roads Art tour a few weeks ago provided a great opportunity to meet people and talk smart about what happens in Der Klubhaus: the joy of creating, the patient process of typesetting by hand, and the triumphs and struggles of a 21st century minor league private press in rural Wisconsin. At the moment it is not easy to recount anything spectacular happening over the eighteen days since, so rather than trying to write a worthy report, this edition of The New Moon Monitor will focus once and for all on presenting a prospectus for Baskerville for Brummies (which technically is not a prospectus at all because this book was completed earlier this year and published on the occasion of my participation in the PAGES Artists’ Books Fair in Leeds, England, this past March. So honestly I don’t know what this is called, but it is whatever the word is for an official announcement that I have published a new book and I am trying to sell copies of it).

A miniature book commemorating the life of John Baskerville, marking 250 years since his passing on 8 January 2025 1775.
48 pages, 6.7 x 5.1 x 1 cm; 8, 10 and 30 pt Baskerville Roman and Italic, letterpress printed with the Vandercook in gold, black and red ink on Zerkall Frankfurt Cream; title page background, 26 text block backgrounds (sections from an 18th century map of Birmingham), and full color reproduction of John Baskerville portrait (painted by John Millar) inkjet printed with a Canon Pixma iP4500; hand bound and cased in covers made of copper plates wrapped with Hahnemuhle Bugra paper with letterpress printed spine in gold ink on Zerkall Frankfurt Cream. Limited edition of 22 copies. $240



THE STORY BEHIND THE BOOK
After learning in mid-January that I had been accepted to exhibit at the PAGES Artists’ Book Fair in Leeds (to be held the 3rd week in March), I began to research book-related things to do in England to fill out my trip. Research quickly led me to Small Performances, a project being undertaken by the University of Birmingham and Cambridge University focused on John Baskerville’s contributions to typography and printing. This sparked the desire to create a book featuring Baskerville’s famous typeface to exhibit at the fair. So here we have yet another very spontaneous book project to complete within a little less than one month. Seems to be a pattern. Not sure I like it, but I do like the results, and I thoroughly enjoyed learning about the remarkable John Baskerville—a thoughtful, interesting, and amusing man…and friend of America’s Benjamin Franklin. If you don’t know much about him and his role in the evolution of the printed book, I recommend this 12-minute YouTube video.
First hurdle: I had no Baskerville type. I quickly found a used font of 30 pt Baskerville Roman readily available from Michael Moore, and Ed Rayher of the Swamp Press agreed to cast fonts of 8 and 10 pt Roman and Italic, which arrived by US post from Massachusetts in mid-February. Next I had to decide what to make with the type. Given I had less than one month to pull it off, the book needed to be small. And what better type of book to celebrate a typeface than an abecedarium? And what else to put in an abecedarium set in Baskerville type but Birmingham-related things?

Yes, I have made small books, but never really something I would classify as a miniature book. Nor have do I have an abecedarium in my bibliography. The time had finally come for me to be a person with a miniature abecedarium in his bibliography. What a great feeling.

After a fair amount of bedtime research about Birmingham (and learning a lot of interesting things), it seemed the best chance for something complete and slightly poetic would be a list of neighborhoods, all of which have excellent names (as far as a man from Wisconsin with a life long fascination with England is concerned), along with names of famous (or semi-famous, at least) artists and (mostly) musicians from Birmingham.
This turned out to be a very entertaining little book.
THE CREATIVE PROCESS (IN SEVEN SIMPLE STEPS)
Step 1: Set up the 30 and 10 pt to print as specimens in gold ink, covering the surface of the paper that will become the pages of the book.
Step 2: Distribute type in tidy drawers, using the invention of system for splitting a case in order to include both the Roman and Italics, which is quite handy and efficient.
Step 3: Write and set the content of the book.
Step 4: Determine a need to add some kind of tint over the text block areas of each page to set the body text apart from the gold specimens below it; decide to test how well a Canon Pixma inkject printer will print on the Zerkall Frankfurt Cream; be delighted with the results, and move ahead with adding full color, inkjet printed images throughout the book.
Step 5: Print the body text and title page, et cetera, in black and red ink with the Vandercook.
Step 6: Collate and bind the pages and insert into a cover based on the same structure designed for previous books.
Step 7: Find out the tiny pages are not heavy enough to keep themselves shut, and the cover is not heavy enough to help with that; decide to insert leftover copper from the previous book project (Hail, Holy Queen) into the covers and cut out the B shape from the flag of Birmingham to reveal the copper inside; find out the weight of the copper works perfectly with the added bonus of giving this miniature book some very welcome and unexected heft, as well as a handsome cover.
Finish project in time to pack up eight copies to take to England and sell one copy to the Bodleian Library at Oxford University.





STONES WATCH IN SILENCE
Stones Watch in Silence is a book of poems by David Steingass (Madison resident), author of Native Son at Home, the first title published by The Heavy Duty Press twenty-five years ago in 2000. This new book features eighteen stone-themed poems by David, complemented with photographs primarily by Brent Nicastro (also a Madison resident). The soft cover copies are done and currently for sale at Pearl Street Books in La Crosse. The limited edition hard cover copies are also done and ready to pick up from Grimm Book Bindery in Madison tomorrow. The goal for this month is to print the dust jackets for the hard covers and be ready to promote and sell these beautiful books properly in the next edition of The New Moon Monitor.
THANK YOU
Thank you, as always, for your interest in what I have to share, and your support of The Heavy Duty Press. Replies, comments, and purchases always welcome.
ENJOY THE FULL BUCK MOON 10 JULY 2025
This edition The New Moon Monitor was written, edited, and sent from an air conditioned room on a muggy Thursday morning in about two hours and twenty-five minutes. Please excuse typos and misspellings. Thank you.
THE NEW MOON MONITOR

2 May 2025, 2:42 p.m. (Friday) | 5 days past the New Flower Moon
Back in step with the stone engraving business for the next eight months. For those who are new subscribers, this is what I do to float the boat. The map above shows most of cemeteries we service (we = me + my two excellent employees, Ryan and Bren). What you’re seeing up there is primarily the driftless region of southwestern Wisconsin, with the Mississippi River on the left, and the interstate running from Madison in the lower right, northwest along the edge of the driftless region (the terrain map illustrates that pretty well) to Tomah, and then west to La Crosse. The Wisconsin River comes down from the north at the top (right of center), and then cuts straight across the state (essentially bisecting the driftless region) towards the bottom of the map. I spent six days in a row this past week in the territory south of Madison (off the map), around Janesville and Beloit (on the Illinois border) engraving an average of fifteen final dates per day. It’s somewhat monotonous, and it can be exhausting; but it pays pretty well, and the solitary nature of the work is very meditative, especially when you have given up on the faulty radio in the van and spend all your driving time in silence. I have found I’m wired pretty well for this work.
I bought the business on the 22nd of July, 2011, so it’s been almost fourteen years. I happen to be one of those artists who has always had to earn a living doing something other than creating, and I feel pretty fortunate to have found and capitalized on this opportunity. I’ll admit it is getting old, insofar as how many times can a person get on his knees to engrave a date in a stone? And the territory which was once all fresh and new to me, providing a steady dose of dopamine every day, has become as familiar as the back of my hand. But things move pretty slowly when you’re doing this kind of work, and every once in a while you see something new, or the vibe within a cemetery strikes you in new way.
Two weeks ago, Friday 18 April, was one of those days.

Millards Prairie Cemetery. This has always been one of my favorites. I have it pinned on the map at the top of the newsletter. It’s about an hour’s drive from Viroqua (near the 3 blue flags to the southwest). I would categorize it as a mid-size rural cemetery. There is a gravel road around the perimeter, so when you drive around it all the graves are on one side of the van (driver’s side), which makes them easy to read. That’s important when you’re looking for the monument that needs engraving. As I approached the cemetery from the east two weeks ago, I noticed something was different. Along the perimeter road there has always been a perfectly spaced row of trees. A lot of them are gone. You can see in the photo above that something is missing from the left side of the cemetery gate. Something big.

That’s a little unnerving to me because the trees are part of what I like, or love about this cemetery. In the back of the cemetery there is one especially magnificent oak, and I actually found myself suddenly in a hurry to photograph it before they cut it down. Who knows how far they intend to go? I’ve come to this cemetery in the past and seen huge limbs from this tree on the ground, so yes, it’s a widow maker. But still. It has to stay. It better stay.

In photographing the tree I took a closer notice of what makes it special. The photo doesn’t do it justice, and it doesn’t help that Izzy’s in the way (but she’s there for scale)…what in the hell is going on with that ground burl? There appears to be a pefectly spherical burl growing at the root of the tree. I don’t know if that’s beautiful or grotesque but one thing it most definitely is is remarkable. And don’t you love it when you get to repeat is in a sentence and it happens to be grammatically correct? It is correct, isn’t it?

And that’s not even the most remarkable part of the story. It’s this engraving for Carmen Miller. There was nothing particularly telling about the order. I usually don’t look at the birthday until I’m working on the stone. And for those who don’t know how this works, many people in the United States purchase a grave stone before they die. They have the opportunity to participate in the design of it, and their names and birthdays are engraved on it. My job is to finish the monument after a person dies. As you can see here, her husband Howard was born in 1925 and died early in life in 1971. That’s tragic. I’m guessing farming accident. It’s just a guess. And that’s most likely when this monument was purchased. You can also see that Carmen was born in 1928. So this is someone who lived a pretty long life. You can do the math. It’s fun. What you cannot see in the photo above, you can see in the photo below.

The portrait. Now this is touching. I mean…yeah, there’s literally some touching going on there by handsy Howard, but that’s not what I mean. What I mean is that this is a cute couple, and if you look closely at that portrait you can see that they’re sitting on top of a giant monument with a name that starts with B and ends with RD. And of course there’s some young trees behind it. The whole time I’m working on engraving her 2025 I’m thinking that I can’t wait to go look for that monument in the older part of the cemetery, because I bet it’s there.

But before I go look for it, let’s just take a minute to acknowledge the bouquet of real flowers left at Carmen’s grave. This is the classy way to do it, folks. I may have said it before, but I’ll say it again so you can spread the word further. Plastic flowers at graves is a sad and sickening outcome of capitalism, or consumerism, over the past century. Please. There is absolutely no good reason to be shipping plastic flowers to the United States for people to buy to show their respect for their deceased loved ones. I’m sorry if you’ve done this and it makes you feel dumb. But really…come on. There are garbage cans and dumpsters full of plastic flowers in cemeteries all across the country—destined for the landfill—and those are just the ones that make it into the garbage can. The rest are in the farm fields and the woods bordering the cemeteries. This, friends, is the kind of thing the government should work on stopping. God made real flowers for this. Stickers for sale.

Off soap box, back to the cemetery research. It just so happens I have one other date to engrave in this cemetery, and it happens to be up in that older section.

This is a completely different kind of life. The bachelor. 75 years old, Vietnam vet, paratrooper. Modest grave stone with cool paratrooper engraving at the top. Classy. Thank you, Mr. Grilley, for your service.

As I’m working in this older section I can’t help but notice the difference between the classic little Wisconsin farm to the west (above, beyond the row of old pines) and the more contemporary, massive farm to the east (below, with the massive steel silos).

And if you walk towards that big farm with the silos…

Bingo. And here I am having my moment, alone in the cemetery, save for the dog, taking a photograph of a monument that once upon a time (80 years ago?) was adorned with a young couple excited for their future in this beautiful little barely populated community nestled within the driftless region of southwestern Wisconsin.
If ever there were ghosts in the cemetery with me, this was the moment.
It’s also worth noting that the trees behind the couple in the portrait on the Miller monument are no longer the giant mature maples I have become accustomed to seeing when I approach this cemetery from the east…

…they are now ground stumps.

But on a brighter note, so sweetly, someone has taken the time to plant a baby arborvitae (which is the quintessential cemetery tree) next to the graves of Howard and Carmen Miller, which we can only imagine will one day be a towering 50-footer, shading their monument in the century ahead.

THANK YOU
I’ll leave you with one more grand daddy of a monument in Millards Prairie Cemetery. This is a real sculptural rarity, and the pink stone is hard to identify as either marble or granite. I’m not the expert. The shape carved adornments in the art nouveau style along the bottom of each of the three pieces is beautiful and uncommon, especially for a cemetery in rural Wisconsin in 1926. And the bell curved baseline of Thomas Prosper’s name…I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything like it before. And his middle name is Prosper. That flower isn’t plastic, either. It’s metal. As for the deceased, you do the math.
THE NEW MOON MONITOR
The New Pink Moon - Mr Koppa Visits England

29 March 2025, 4:57 p.m. (Saturday) | The New Pink Moon
Mostly reacclimated to time and geographical location here in the peaceful driftless region of southwestern Wisconsin after an epic eight-day adventure in distant England, I am ready to spend a few hours putting together a full report for you. Expectations for this trip were set fairly high, even as I tried to remain calm, which one must do when traveling alone to faraway lands. The trip exceeded almost all expectations and honestly, with never a dull moment, I felt as if I was almost always in a state of amazement. Let’s begin.
Overnight flights are the way to go for me. No, I don’t sleep well, but I am able to keep my eyes shut for maybe four hours in the middle of the eight-hour journey and it’s at least some kind of rest before the action begins. Here’s a play-by-play for you to imagine: 8 a.m. begin packing luggage. 10 a.m. drive two hours to Madison, Wisconsin. 12:30 p.m. eat a hearty lunch. 2:00 p.m. board a 3-hour bus ride to O’Hare International. 6:30 p.m. eat guacamole and chips with a beer from Frontera. 9:15 p.m. board large jet aeroplane. Take flight from Chicago around 10 p.m. and, with the time adjusted for the fact that you are traveling into the past, touchdown at Heathrow Airport at 11 a.m. Get off the plane and start towing your luggage for a very long time, made easier by conveyors, and think about how neat it would be if roads were conveyors so you could simply walk wherever you need to go at an accelerated rate. Figure out which train you need to take to get to Kings Cross station in London. Figure out how to pay for it, and find out all you do is tap your credit card at the turnstile. Lug your luggage onto that train and listen to all the English accents as people get on and off for about a dozen stops with great names, and get yourself and your luggage off the train at Kings Cross. Start your way to the exit, and lug your luggage up a series of escalators. Realize you were several stories underground. Marvel at the Underground network. Climb out of the Underground at high noon to blue skies, above the expansive plaza hosting a tented market of delicious food, and hundreds of people hustling, bustling, or just hanging around Kings Cross Station. You have arrived.

Traveling through the air to distant lands is a privilege, and ought never be taken lightly. To be someplace you don’t belong is truly the next best thing to time travel. That sensation might fall into the subconscious or never even be considered by some, but for me it remains at the front of my mind for the duration of the trip. I feel fortunate to have been able to travel to Europe multiple times, and am grateful for everyone in my life that has helped make that possible for me. I am relaying my experience as a matter of sharing.

Day 1: Wednesday, 19 March 2025
The first day is always a recovery day, with a mid-day beer (ideally outdoors) before checking into the hotel for a long nap, then waking up for a stroll around the neighborhood, marveling at the nightlife and magnificent buildings…so much stone. St Pancras Station, which is seen behind the bus in the photo above, and not seen immediately to the left of Kings Cross Station as pictured in the photograph below, is absolutely massive and seems almost impossible to be real. There is no way to capture this in a mobile phone photograph. I tried. But when a person is traveling it should always be okay to be seen in awe of things, so when the picture could not be saved in a photo, I simply stood and stared at it from the curb across the street for a full minute or two, attempting to soak it into memory as thoroughly as possible.

And with that I decided I should go to bed, and keeping with tradition I needed to go back to the convenience store I spotted along my stroll to buy a small bottle of single malt scotch. Glen Morangie if you are wondering. I chose my one-night lodging in London through Travelocity… the Wardonia Hotel. Ratings were pretty good with a few comments about the rooms being tiny. It was an absolutely perfect room for entry into this English adventure. The lobby feels first class and very clean, and of course the host is exceedingly polite. I was given the room on the very east end (to the left in the photo below), on the top floor, almost as if I requested it. I love being inside these buildings and the location of this room gave me the longest walk possible down a cozy carpeted corridor that may have been 12” wider than my luggage, and up three flights of stairs the same width, through a narrow fire door to a small hall with three doors to three rooms. My room was slightly larger than the twin bed in it, which was tight against the wall next to the window, with an en suite bathroom that might have been 3’ wide by 8’ long (with shower stall, sink, and toilet). I absolutely love and admire the efficiency. This is all a traveling man needs.
Day 2: Thursday, 20 March 2025—Birmingham
Thursday began with a figuring out train travel to Leeds for the PAGES Artists’ Books Fair, with a stop in Birmingham on the way up, and then from Leeds down to Oxford on Sunday, with a stops in Derby and Birmingham (again) on the way down. I was happy to have a human being available to help me sort through all that and purchase the tickets. Again with the efficiency, the public transportation system in England is something to admire. Being in train stations, waiting for trains, getting on trains, getting off trains…it is a novelty for a man from Wisconsin, and the experience is cherished.

Birmingham was a wonderful surprise. The exceptionally modern New Street Station let me out into a large plaza to begin the walk to the Library of Birmingham to view an exhibit about John Baskerville. This could have been made easier if I had left my luggage in the Left Luggage room, but in a hasty moment I chose to save the £12 and lug it along. Also hard to follow the walking instructions on your phone sometimes, which meant a couple wrong turns and a longer walk than necessary, but no complaints…happy to walk through Victoria Square and past the Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery to the monstrous and contemporary Library of Birmingham. This is when the mix of very old and modern architecture began to capture my attention, sparking an appreciation for the scope of Western civilization. We don’t get that in Wisconsin, where our oldest buildings were built in the late 19th century, and a lot of them are barns.



The Baskerville exhibit was nothing more than an installation of about fifteen posters, but it was plenty to read and very informative. If you are not familiar with the man, the short of it is this: He lived in the 18th century, began his life as a writing instructor, then stone engraver, before making a fortune in the manufacture of decorative lacquered tea trays. Once well off, he pursued his passion for printing and typography, and contributed innovations to the field in the form of the Baskerville type face, printing techniques, paper production, and a secret recipe for unusually black ink. He married his shop assistant, Sarah Eaves, shortly after the death of her allegedly derelict and estranged husband, and took in her five children as his own. Mr Baskerville was known by friends to be full of fun. He was a notoriously well dressed man, progressive, outspoken, and a friend of American statesman, Benjamin Franklin. He had his critics.

After reading through the exhibit, the luggage was lugged back to New Street Station to take a ten-minute train ride to the University of Birmingham’s Cadbury Research Library, where I had an appointment with librarian Victoria Clubb to view some of John Baskerville’s books, and some printed by his wife, Sarah, and some by others, all featuring the Baskerville type face. It was quite an honor to be given a private lecture with the opportunity to page through and photograph these beautiful 250 year-old books, and fun to see Ben Franklin’s name noted among the subscribers…not just one copy of each book printed, but six.





The day is not over until I get back to New Street Station and board the train again for Leeds, where I will stay the next three nights in a flat booked through Airbnb while exhibiting at the book fair. What I know at this point is the flat is on the top floor of the Pearl Chambers building across the street from the Leeds Art Gallery, and an eight-minute walk from the train station. I arrived in the dark.
Days 3-4: Friday-Saturday, 21-22 March 2025—Leeds
It feels only a little bit spooky lugging luggage alone through a big, old, and dark city in the middle of England, but it also seems as if there is nothing to fear. I took a stroll up and down The Headrow Thursday night before retiring, and woke up to these views from the windows of my flat: the Leeds Art Gallery across the street, and the Leeds Town Hall, kitty corner from the Pearl Chambers.


I remain acutely aware that I am far from home, visiting a country with a long history. I also check the news and find out that Heathrow is shut down due to a nearby fire and begin to wonder if my trip to England will be extended. And then I walk a few blocks to get some groceries for breakfasts and a cafe coffee before setting up my table at the fair.

The PAGES Artists’ Book Fair was held in a beautifully sky lit room within the Leeds Art Gallery. This was a smallish event when compared to the Oxford Fine Press Book Fair, with only about forty exhibitors. I found it to be a wonderful group and enjoyed meeting so many like-minded people from all over England. The lesson learned here, too late, but I hope to remember it for the next time, is not to display every book you can possibly fit on a table among forty other tables full of interesting books. Once the fair is rolling, it is easy to observe how someone (or everyone) could be overwhelmed by the number of intriguing things to see, handle, and read. It is nice to put all of these people together in one space for a few days, but it is asking a lot of anyone to process all there is to process. It is probably impossible. And therefore, a person cannot be disappointed with flat sales, but rather must be grateful for the opportunity to rub elbows with other artists, make some new friends, and have a few fun conversations with a few buyers. Next time simply show three books.

The fair coincided with an opening reception for a traveling exhibition of artists’ books titled Enfolded Journeys at the Leeds Library, curated by the same fellows who organize the fair: Chris Taylor and John McDowall, with works co-selected by Karen Babayan and Sophie Loss. This was a another lovely event, and it felt humbling to be among such interesting, creative, and intelligent people.

I will have fond memories of my time in Leeds and look forward to returning some day with more time to take in everything it has to offer, from the gorgeous interior of the Art Gallery and Library to the shops and restaurants along Albion Place (pictured above). I barely had a glance.
(DAN'S NOTE - If you have not done so already, this would be a good time to get a beer. Mr koppa would approve)
Day 5: Sunday, 23 March 2025—Birmingham sans Derby
The wildest day of the week, to be sure. I had made careful plans to meet a musical artist named Miles Newbold in Derby. Miles is the man behind The Natural Yogurt Band, which caught my ear a few years ago. As I was trying to make the most of my trip, I contacted his record label, managed to get connected with him via email, and he agreed to take a bus (with his partner and two children in tow) from his home in Ashbourne to meet me in Derby, where I would get off my train to meet with him at a coffeeshop for breakfast. Sadly, that plan was aborted when I had to get off the train in Derby in a rush, couldn’t find my phone as I was frantically checking over my belongings on the platform, and decided to jump back on the train to find it. The doors, of course, closed behind me and I was off to Birmingham, still without my phone. The train was packed like a tin of sardines and for the next half hour I tried to do the English thing and keep calm while I searched by pockets, purse, and satchel a dozen times over, looked under seats, and used my iPad to email Miles and let him know what was happening. I am grateful for his understanding of my misfortune, and the short story is that I found my phone in an upper pocket of my coat after getting off the train in Birmingham. Miles and I have started talking about a collaboration about the debacle.

Continuing on then, the plan for Sunday afternoon included a visit to the Typographic Library at the Winterbourne House (above) on the University of Birmingham campus. I’m still not sure how important this was, as I really didn’t have anything specific to research, but I enjoyed browsing through type specimen books from the turn of the 20th century, not only to observe gorgeous design and exemplary letterpress printing, but also to take inspiration from the civil language of the trade.



The afternoon finished with a delicious sausage roll with Earl Grey tea in the cafe with a view of the gardens.
Days 6-7: Monday-Tuesday 24-25 March 2025—Oxford
Sunday finished with a train ride to Oxford. I had a scheduled meeting with a wizard-like fellow named Theo Dunnett, whom my wife and I met on our previous trip to Oxford while sitting at the bar in the King’s Arms in December 2023. I had contacted Theo by postal mail about a month before the trip to let him know I would be in Oxford and would like to visit if he had time. He replied by email to let me know when and where we would meet (The Rusty Bicycle), and that he would introduce me to Richard Lawrence, printer at The Bodleian Bibliographical Press.

What a fun time. Walking into that pub and seeing Theo waiting for me felt as if we were old friends. During our first beer, Richard walks in, we are introduced, and we have another beer. Then Richard and I leave to find a meal. All of this is happening while I remain acutely aware that I am far away from home walking through a neighborhood in one of the most fascinating cities in the Western world. After a delicious pizza and salad at La Cucina, we walk back to his personal shop and talk for another hour or so. When I tell him I have to leave and get some sleep, he lets me go and tells me we will reconvene in the same place at 9 a.m. It is a little ambitious. I tell him I might not make it by 9. He’s okay with that.
The next morning we complete the visit in his shop, which includes studios rented to other artists upstairs, and the Monotype typecasting operation of Claire and David Bolton’s Alembic Press. This is all kind of incredible to me.
Around noon we walk to The Bodleian Museum where he will show me the home of The Bibliographical Press, where peering out windows set in 24” thick 400 year-old stone walls is enough to send a mind spinning centuries back in time.
A couple hours later Richard tells me it’s time for a sandwich before he has to teach a class of fourteen students from Lincoln College at 3:30. Eight stations of upper and lowercase 14 pt Caslon will be shared by fourteen students, and each will set two lines from a Shakespeare sonnet (so two sonnets), which they will then print on a mid-sized Albion hand press, all in a little more than two hours. I am invited to observe and watch Richard lecture the students and give instruction as to how they will proceed. When the time starts to get crunched, I am asked to assist the students with the typesetting. This is a real “how did I get here?” moment, and I enjoyed every bit of being a part of the action.

And now, after a remarkable day spent with Richard, I glance up at the tower of the Bodleian Library before walking to The Head of the River on the Thames for a beer and a delicious meal.

The final day of the trip ended with a visit with Sarah Wheale, special collections libraria