My Experiences at Linotype University VI

1. Extraordinary Good Fortune

So what are the chances? After 20 years of wanting a Linotype, all of a sudden out of the blue I get two at once. That would have been fortunate enough in itself. They're in not-quite-working order, but I'm determined and optimistic and I figure that in a year I can get them running again. Then, just a few days later, I discover that someone is running a week-long full-imersion intensive Linotype maintenance and operation class - and that it is less than three weeks away, only 200 miles from my home, and free. Good fortune doesn't get any better than this!

The short of it is that I've now taken the class. It was a tremendously good experience. Now I know that I'll get my machines running!

2. A Hands-On "University"

So what is Linotype University?

In the simplest terms, it is a one-week "full immersion" class hosted and principally taught by a serious and knowledgable collector of Linotypes and letterpress equipment, Larry Raid, at his Working Linotype (and Ludlow, etc.) Museum in Denmark, Iowa. It is free of charge (yes, really!) Your only costs are your expenses - gas, food, and lodging. It is often co-taught by another instructor. (At L.U. VI, this was Bud Lang, a retired hot metal printer who first got into the business in 1957.) Larry has hosted this University six times now. For information on the next class, see his website at: http://www.linotypeuniversity.org/

It is defnintely a "hands on" learning experience. If we were sitting at a table discussing, say, the magazine escapement, we had one there in front of us. If the discussion turned to, say, the distributor box, Larry might go and pull one off one of the Linotypes. If we wanted to see how some part of the machine functioned in operation, we operated it. If I wanted to learn what happens when you put a matrix into the distributor box backwards ... well, not only did I get to learn this, I learned that the distributor box is attached via a left-handed thread!

We learned the basic procedures for "waking up" a Linotype in the morning, and doing the routine daily maintenance that it takes to keep it running (attending to the pot and plunger, cleaning the mouthpiece, etc.) We learned the basic procedures for putting a machine to sleep at night so that it would be in good working order the next day. Of course, the next day we discovered that this shop seemed to be infested by "printer's devils" who had somehow thrown the machines pretty thoroughly out of order :-) We then learned how to bring a machine from that state back into working order. By this time, we really knew the procedures for bringing a machine up.

There isn't time in just a week to become an experienced Linotype "machinist," but insofar as time permitted the class went into machinist's topics. We got a good overall theoretical grounding in the operating principles of the machines. Each of us ended up specializing in one or another part of the machine. One student ended up becoming a bit of an expert on renovating spaceband boxes. Another student helped me hoist up and reattach the Distributor Bracket and Distributor on a partially disassembled machine. My Model X back home is a machine originally based around a Model 5. Larry's Working Linotype Museum includes the Model 5 that Bud used for decades in his own business, so Bud took me under his wing and taught me some of the intricacies of working on a 102 year old machine. Newer Linotypes, for example, have segmented ejector blades that you can just set with a lever. The Model 5 has solid ejector blades that you swap in and out. I now know the relatively simple but not at all intuitive procedure for changing the solid ejector blades on a Model 5 - thanks, Bud!

The class assumes no previous experience in either machinery or printing. Some of the students were deeply experienced in machines, but not printing. Others were skilled primarily in the graphic arts. I can't say I have much skill in either. But by the end of the class I had set an entire short piece, pulled a proof, had the proof corrected, reset the corrections, pulled another proof, reset yet more corrections, pulled a final proof, imposed it into pages, locked it up into chases, and printed it on a small platen press. This was the first printing I'd ever done in my life, and while the result isn't perfect by any means, it represents for me a huge learning experience. Never before in my life, in 30 years of typing and 25 years of producing documentation at the computer, have I been quite so aware of words as physical things. Never have I been so conscious of something as simple as the length of words. Their lengths matter quite a lot when you're figuring out how to guide the machine to best justify a line, and the matter critically when, for example, you discover after proof that you've left a "d" off the end of a word, and that this kicks a tight line into the next line, which is also tight, so you end up having to reset several lines all because of one typographical error. I do not plan, myself, to go into typograhic design, but I do not understand now how anyone can hope to become a good graphic designer without this "enforced close look" at the pragmatic aspects of words-as-physical-things. Computer typesetting just doesn't do it.

We also got a good introduction to many of the weekly or monthly maintenance aspects of the machines. We changed and cleaned magazines. We cleaned mats (matrices). Two of us (myself included) got the chance to cast pigs (ingots), which was tremendous fun. I learned the principles and use of the composing room saw, and how to adjust it and set the trimmer blades. Beforehand, I only vaguely knew I should have such a saw; now I understand its daily utility.

Although this was not actually "Ludlow University" (which Larry also hosts), we did get a chance to use the Ludlow noncomposing linecaster, which was fun.

Like most learning experiences, what you get out of Linotype University depends on what you put into it. It's a full week course, but there's more to Linotypes than can possibly be covered in even the most intensive week. The overall structure was flexible; Larry ensured that the basic topics were covered, but we had room to guide things according to our interests. I tried to come into it having done as much background research as possible, and bringing with me as much material as I could. Inevitably, I over-prepared in some areas and under-prepared in others, but overall the preparation helped. I also discovered that what I knew I needed to know changed constantly. I was able almost each night to distill down a set of questions and topics that I now knew (but hadn't before) that I wanted to cover.

Finally, and by no means least importantly, it was a really good social experience. The instructors were great, as were their spouses (thanks especially for the mid-morning snacks!) The other students were a pleasure to work with, and each was fascinating in very diverse ways. It felt like a sort of an instant family, and it still seems a bit unreal that it's over.

3. A Necessary Experience

If you have any serious interest at all in Linotype or Intertype composing linecasters, then in my opinion you certainly should attend Linotype University the next time it is offered. If you, like myself, are (or will be) actively involved in running, repairing, or restoring a Linotype or Intertype, then in my opinion you must take this course. Short of finding an old Linotype machinist as a personal tutor, there's simply nothing else like it.

Linotype University VII is scheduled for Sept. 27 - Oct. 4, 2009. I'm signed up already; see you there!

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