History of The Typophiles

A Brief History of The Typophiles

[adapted largely from the introduction to the bibliography of The Typophile Chap Books, 1935-1992, with updates]

The Typophiles - A Historical Note

by Chandler B. Grannis

At first there were “the Biblio-Beef-Eaters,” according to the bibliophile and historian Paul McPharlin, writing in Publishers’ Weekly, November 4, 1944, “a group that met at Burtry’s French Restaurant on West 50th Street” in Manhattan. At some early point, its informal leadership fell to Paul A. Bennett, typographic layout director and, later, promotion manager of the Mergenthaler Linotype Company.

The group consisted of men, young for the most part, who had become acquainted primarily through their work in typography, printing, and books, and who enjoyed shop talk, sharing enthusiasms, and swapping samples of what they were producing. Typefaces, letterforms, printing, and everything one did with them—they loved it all; in adopting the name Typophiles, they said so.

The word was suggested by Arthur Rushmore, Harper & Bros. book designer, “sometime in the early thirties,” according to their earliest historical account, The Typophiles Whodunit, a 1938 chap book cited by McPharlin. (The books were as yet unnumbered, the Typophiles not realizing at that early stage that they would have a series going.) Another early member, Jim Hendrickson, printer and designer (and Shakespearean actor), recalled in PW, December 5, 1953 that “Paul [Bennett] was in at the beginnings back in 1932 and has shepherded the group ever since. These Wednesday luncheons are held in the Pine Room of the Architectural League on East 40th Street, and you are likely to see there sooner or later most of the leaders of the printing arts in this country.”

Presumably the date of 1932 is correct; in the introduction to a 1968 reprint of his 1953 article, Hendrickson wrote, “the bibliographical details were supplied and checked by Paul himself.” However, in 1969 one “original Typophile,” Eugene Ettenberg, told PW (issue of January 20, 1969) that he had joined in 1930.

The Typophiles’ ventures into publishing, wrote Bennett in a memoir printed in the 1960 Penrose Annual, “were the outgrowth of the pleasant experience of printing keepsakes in small editions for distribution at our Christmas luncheons.” These expanded into seven substantial cooperative projects, 1935-1938. These in turn led to the idea of a continuous series of small-edition bound books, mostly 4 1/2 x 7 inches trimmed size, each on a single theme. Adopting an old printer’s term, they called the volumes Chap Books. With Bennett’s cajolery and coordination, they were written, edited, designed, and produced with services and materials cheerfully donated by individual Typophiles and their friends in the industry. These early products were distributed mostly within the group at a “modest subscription”—one dollar at first.

Meanwhile, members were turning out keepsakes, typographic “titbits,” and pamphlet “monographs” (Bennett’s words)—simply to please themselves and each other at their luncheons.

“The several [1935-1938] books preceding the chap book series,” Bennett wrote in his 1960 memoir, “were the most fun.” Made up of inserts—separate fascicles uniform in trimmed size, in a single binding, from various typophilic hands and personal presses—they still radiate much of the exuberance, artistry, ingenuity, and frequent whimsy that went into them.

The first of these joint compilations was the 1935 Spinach from Many Gardens, an octavo completed in less than three weeks to celebrate the 70th birthday of Frederic W. Goudy, prolific designer of typefaces and mentor to the world of print. The edition was 60 copies. A few months later came another bound octavo of inserts, Barnacles form Many Bottoms, edition 100, celebrating the return to this country of Bruce Rogers after a long stint in England, where he had designed the monumental Oxford Lectern Bible. Cautiously, Paul Bennett wrote in his preface to Barnacles: “This is the Typophiles’ second book. It is likely to be the last.”

The next bound collection was devoted to the ampersand. Once the proposal for it was made known to the wider community of typophiles, it brought in “more information on the derivation and development of that obscure character than had been previously gathered together.” Diggings from Many Ampersandhogs, 1936, contained 35 inserts; 125 copies were made.

Two portfolios were assembled, with groups of collaborators assigned respectively to writing, designing, and printing the inserts. One was made in March 1937, saluting the visit to the U.S. by “Paul Beaujon” (Beatrice Warde), the American “typographic lady” who was publicity manager for Monotype of London. The other, done in October 1938, was for the artist and engraver Fritz Kredel, celebrating his arrival from Nazi Germany to live in this country.

In between the two portfolios came other bound books. For another “bookmaking adventure,” Bennett recalled later, “we thought it might be fun to develop a device for the Typophiles to replace the casual street-cleaner mark irreverently and occasionally used.” A call went out, inviting designs and comments. Offers flooded in. The result was a 356-page book, Left to Their Own Devices, containing 156 devices and marks from 113 individuals here and abroad. It has normal pagination, yet it was printed at 22 different presses. For all this effort, the edition was only 190. Many of the marks have been used on keepsakes, announcements, books, and monographs of the group over the years.

Abe Lerner points out, “This book is the most beautiful of the early chap books, and one of the most beautiful of the entire series, mainly because it was designed by just one person, John Fass, a very good designer. Although many shops contributed to the presswork, the typesetting was done at only one place, Mergenthaler Linotype, using Janson throughout in accordance with Fass’s designs. The paper, a lovely gray-tinted sheet uniform for the whole volume, contributed its share to the handsome unity of effect. These factors of uniformity were a departure from the manner in which the previous books were made, where many hands resulted in a diversity generally amusing and often excellent, but not always felicitous.”

The numbering of the chap books began with a merry 87-page collection, Songs for a Printers’ Way Goose, 1940. Number 5 was Bombed but Unbeaten, 1941, written by Beatrice L. Warde; 500 out of the 850 printed were put on sale for British War Relief. Several later chap books ran as high as 176 pages, and a few even longer. Two of Bennett’s last productions were two-volume, slipcased sets, one by and about W.A. Dwiggins with multi-color reproductions, 1960, and the other made up of materials by and about Alfred A. Knopf, 1965. The latter contained more than 300 pages in each volume.

For several chap books, Bennett ordered printings larger than the 300 plus-or-minus, so as to allow sale to members of the Book Club of California and other bibliophilic groups. Sometimes a few extra copies were made for distribution through selected friendly dealers.

In all the publications, right up to the time he died, Paul Bennett remained the center, the organizer, the moving spirit—the “Great Persuader,” as one friend called him—of the artists, writers, typographers, printers, binders, and others who took part. As one observer wrote, “The Typophiles is a body of men surrounded by Paul Bennett.”

“Men” was accurate, for that was the norm in those days. But, actually, practicing typographers included women in growing numbers. Among them were skilled compositors; designers of adult trade, children’s, and text books; art directors; production managers; and not a few editors. Yet, except for the formidable Beatrice Warde, they couldn’t come to lunch with the boys. Well—they did get invited to the Christmas meetings! The exclusion ended at long last in 1970.

But it should be recalled here that even in the early days, typographic women asserted their presence, displaying what now may seem amazing grace and forbearance. Taking Bertha Goudy, typesetter and designer, as inspiration, they formed their own small group, calling it The Distaff Side. Its major adventure, emulating their brothers in type, was a bound collection of inserts, Goudy Gaudeamus (literally, “we rejoice”) with Frederic W. Goudy on his 70th birthday. Making up the committee in charge were Emily Connor, Fanny Duschnes, and two who would later be active Typophiles, Evelyn Harter Glick and Edna Beilenson.

Following Paul Bennett’s death of a heart attack in December 1966, his friends debated disbanding but finally decided to carry on what he and they had achieved. However, they could no longer go on with the proud informality of “no officers, no dues and no by-laws.” Accordingly, after a vote on June 7, 1967, they formally incorporated in July 1967 as a non-profit educational organization, The Typophiles, Inc., in the State of New York. They elected as president Martin Meyer of Lindenmeyr Paper Corporation; vice presidents, Fridolf Johnson of American Artist and Henry Schniewind of Spring Mills; treasurer, S. Wyman Rolph of the Bank of New York; secretary, Charles Antin of The Viking Press. In December 1968, Eugene M. Ettenberg, advertising typographer and teacher, was elected president. He was succeeded a year later by Dr. Robert L. Leslie, a partner in The Composing Room Inc., who at 80 was in his prime. A man small in size, he was large in energy, bursting with ideas and enthusiasm about graphic arts and artists., Serving with Leslie were Johnson, Rolph, Antin, Frank Powers, retired advertising typographer, and Horace Hart, then president of the Lanston Monotype Machine Company (U.S.A.), who later founded the Goudy Society.

One of Bennett’s larger unfinished chap book projects, two volumes of writing by and about Theodore Low DeVinne was completed in 1968. At the same time, Charles Antin organized the production of a boxed, chap-book-size memorial portfolio, Paul A. Bennett Private Press Keepsake, which was made up of sixty small pieces in tribute to “P.A.B.,” as many recalled him. Although not a chap book, the collection was also a demonstration of some fine private press work.

By the end of 1971, Doc Leslie was taking on most of the publishing functions. But he enlisted help from many others. The two key people came to be the secretary-treasurer of the Typophiles, Catherine Tyler Brody, then Chief Librarian (and now Director of Archives) at the New York City Technical College, and vice president Abe Lerner, “appointed” to the post by Doc in 1975. Lerner was a designer for book publishers since 1930.

An eager traveler, Doc Leslie conceived the idea of arranging typophilic junkets—day-trips in the New York area or weekend affairs farther afield. Through the mid-1970s, these blossomed into full-scale group tours to Israel, and then to England and the European continent, stopping at centers of printing history and meeting with leaders in the typographic world along the way. Chief arrangers were Alice Koeth, calligrapher, and Catherine Brody, who described the trips in extensive articles in Printing News.

The Typophile’s meetings, which had been held monthly for many years, continued with Abe Lerner in charge from 1976. The list of speakers is too long to be set down here. Among them were book designers, type designers, printers, wood engravers, calligraphers (most notably Paul Standard, a tireless early Typophile), collectors, librarians, editors, artists, historians, museum curators, dealers in fine books. The postcard announcements written by Lerner for the meetings provide a concisely annotated catalogue of these interesting men and women.

Doc Leslie’s 100th birthday was celebrated at the December 1985 luncheon. He died 14 months later. In June 1985 he had been made president emeritus of the Typophiles, and Abe Lerner, who actually had been arranging luncheon programs and issuing the publications for nearly a decade, took the reins formally as president. Michael Hentges and George Laws were made vice presidents. When Lerner stepped down at the beginning of 1990, he was succeeded as president by Morris A. Gelfand, former library director who has become well known as proprietor of the Stone House Press. Philip Sperling became vice president for membership. Cathy Brody continues her long and energetic service as secretery-treasurer.

While acting as the Typophiles editor, designer, and publisher, Abe launched in 1984 the Typophile Monographs New Series, produced as a privilege for membership in the organization. They are substantial texts (typically 24 to 40 pages), octavos, in wrappers, appearing annually at the Christmas meetings. They have given added glow to the Typophiles’ reputation for notable contributions to the history of the arts of book making.

Meanwhile ideas for new chap books kept coming up. In 1975 four volumes were begun on American Printers. Two were subsequently published by the Typophiles, the first one on John Henry Nash; the second on William Edwin Rudge whose famous Printing House was the training ground for many outstanding printers of the last century. Two other planned titles grew to such proportions that they had to be issued by other organizations. These were on the Grabhorn Press, later published by the Book Club of California; and on Rudolph Ruzicka, issued with the imprint of the Grolier Club.

Another important chap book in the series was Janet Ing’s Johann Gutenberg and His Bible, a simply written but scholarly historical summary of the 500 years of Gutenberg research that has been going on, up to the latest scientific studies. The British Library’s publishing division was granted exclusive distribution rights in the United Kingdom, participating as well in the second printing which needed to be made. Also distributed in the U.K. by the British Library was Two Titans, written by Hans Schmoller on the contrasting careers of Giovanni Mardersteig and Jan Tschichold. Currently, all in-print books of The Typophiles (as well as any used books they may have on hand) are availble from Oak Knoll Books.

Several years ago the Typophiles began to meet quarterly rather than monthly, and since 1987 their luncheons have been taking place in the 19th-century landmark ambience of the National Arts Club on Gramercy Park in New York City. (Recent speakers at these luncheons can be found on this web site here.) Fine print and printers of the past and current era are celebrated with talks and slides and lively questioning. Keepsakes are handed around. Shop talk is still heard. Forthcoming monographs are announced, and plans for new chap books eagerly received, their progress discussed.

And so the organization flourishes.