By Alexandra Izzard, WPAMC Class of 2022
Overview
For most of recorded Western history, dye sample and recipe books were a bound series of notes kept by crafts people. These notes could range from how to property boil water for your dye bath, to what mordants to use to create the most brilliant purple, to wordless notes in the form of swatches. There is not accessible, published scholarship on dye books themselves, but an examination of recipe books more generally as well as the evolution of textiles aids in understanding the field. When studying dye books for their content, it is important to keep the following threads in mind: the reliability of personal recipes, the difference in authority between script and printed text, the specificity of the site context of a recipe, the necessity of equipment in the practice, and evidence of socio-economic change in evolving recipes.
Because of their unofficial nature, most dye books in the 18th and 19th centuries did not subscribe to a pre-ordained format; rather, the function of the book had to fit to the form it was given. Dyers often bought pre-bound volumes and filled them in with their recipes, notes, and swatches. Some books were blank and unlined (Figure 2), some were lightly ruled with a ledger bar (Figure 3), and others took books destined for another purpose, such as address books, and reassigned their function (Figure 4). The books tended to be smaller and portable, not extending over twelve inches in any direction. This allowed not only for ease of movement around a dye studio, but also coinvent transport for the selling of wares.
The typography of the books generally follows the available technologies of the moment while still addressing function. Because the earlier books were predominantly maker’s notes about their personal process, they were still written in script (with the occasional printed clipping) despite the availability of printing presses (Figure 5). Since they did not need to be mass produced, it did not make sense to go through the expense of printing. The script varies from person to person, and the tidiness and organization varies; some volumes contain slow, intentional lettering (Figures 6 and 7), while others are hurried and even contain sloppily redacted sections (Figure 8). Additionally, because these volumes were fitting the function to the form, they do not have a consistent layout. Their layouts range from labeled pages and tables of contents (Figure 9), to chromatic organization (Figure 10), to no apparent logical flow.
In the nineteenth century, authoritative books on the subject of dyeing begin to appear in a more official capacity in the printed form. This was encouraged by what is sometimes referred to the “Wonderful Century” in the scientific community; the 19th century saw a boom in scientific activity as a result of Western colonization and industrialization. This fed Europeans with the requisite resources and leisure time to make great breakthroughs from the discovery of X-rays to the coining of the term “scientist.” The comparatively inexpensive printing materials of the 19th century allowed for the professionalization and standardization of scientific pursuits, which was reflected in some dye books.
However, there continued to be dyers who recorded their recipes by hand, and painstakingly hand-glued in swatches to their volumes. This shows the dichotomy between the two kinds of dye books: didactic and personal reference. Both forms continue well into the 20th century, as we see examples of student notebooks in the 1930s learning about dye processes as well as more official texts from the E.I. Dupont and DeNemours company closer to the middle of the century (Figure 11). The student notebook continues to fit function to form with a blank, ruled lab notebook with carefully taped in samples. One can imagine the strain placed on the spine of this notebook by the unprecedented volume of the swatches. The “official” dye books of the 20th century address this issue by using three-ring binders rather than bound books to contain their swatches. This design allows for users to quickly flip through swatches without damaging the volume, and also allows for the easy removal and addition of pages.
Today’s dye books range from technical manuals for large-scale dyeing production to handbooks for students. J.J. Pizzuto’s Fabric Science Swatch Kit (Figure 12) is an interesting example of a didactic text that combines many of the techniques utilized throughout the history of dye books. Physically, it looks most like the E.I. Dupont and DeNemours book; it is a three-ring binder with individual sheets. Upon closer examination, one can see the influence of earlier dye books in the blank sections that users fill with hand-written information and the blank boxes where they are to paste in swatches. It also incorporates print culture with pre-labeled pages, section headers, and prompts for users to answer. This contemporary example shows the utility of each form of dye books along the chronology, and that a long history is necessary in developing modern modes of book design.
For further examples of dye books throughout history, consider visiting the online collections of the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Diagram of a Dye Book
Glossary of Terms
Annotated Bibliography
This volume largely focuses on food-related recipe books, but I find the framework that Annie Gray sets up in her chapter to be useful in the realm of recipes more generally, and in this case, applicable to dyes. Some of the most pertinent ideas she introduces are: the reliability of personal recipes, the difference in authority between script and printed text, the specificity of the site context of a recipe, the necessity of equipment in the practice, and evidence of socio-economic change in evolving recipes. Her work grounds the study of recipe books in an anthropological sphere that helps researchers to imagine the larger picture rather than just the final product.
Full Citation: Gray, Annie. "‘A Practical Art’: An Archaeological Perspective on the Use of Recipe Books." In Reading and Writing Recipe Books, 1550–1800, edited by DiMeo Michelle and Pennell Sara, 47-67. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv5npjfw.9.
This text takes a quilting, and thus woman-centric approach to the study of American textiles. The first section titled “Fabrics” is more pertinent to the study of dye recipes; it talks about the human connection between a person and fabric, fabric diaries, and the production of fabric. Perhaps most importantly, this section has lots of images of fabric diaries and swatch books which have parallels in form to dye books.
This text is not what is considered revolutionary scholarship (it is fifty years old), but it provides an overview of dyeing and textile printing processes in America (Chapter I: How do They Print a Fabric?). In Chapter three, titled “Jamestown Colony to the Revolution, 1607 to 1775” the section on Blue Resist Prints gives not only insight into the process, but also includes three recipes (p. 112). This text is useful for small bits of factual information, such as the blue dye recipes, but is incredibly reductive, particularly in the section titled “American Indians.”
Full Citation: Pettit, Florence Harvey. America's Printed & Painted Fabrics, 1600-1900: All the Ways There Are to Print Upon Textiles, a Most Complete History of World Fabrics, All About the Printers and Patterns of America, & Other Things That Went on from 1600 to 1900. New York: Hastings House, 1970.
This anthology provides readers with a comprehensive overview of the scientists and breakthroughs of scientific thought in the 19th century. The introduction is particularly relevant to this project as it addresses the changes in scientific materials and why we begin to see printed dye books in this period. Outside the scope of this research, the biographies are well-written and engaging, even for those outside of the scientific community.
From topics ranging from power and cloth in Oceana to folklore and fabric in Early Modern Europe, this book takes readers on a global tour of the culture and economy of textiles. Chapter five, titled “Why Do Ladies Sing the Blues: Indigo Dyeing, Cloth Production, and Gender Symbolism in Kodi” is most applicable to the study of dye books, or rather the keeping of dye information. This study shows an alternate to books; a select few women are specialists in moro (blueness) and pass on their knowledge of indigo dyeing to other women through oral tradition. This chapter helps to contextualize the practice of dyeing outside of a Western, book-bound context.