How Books Are Handmade At The Last Printing Press Of Its Kind In The US | Still Standing

This is the last printing press in the U.S. where books are handmade from start to finish. Every letter of an Ariane Press book is created one by one. Together, they make up a book that can take years to produce and cost up to $10,000 to buy. That's because this San Francisco institution uses machines and techniques that date back to the 1800s. Printing presses like Ariane used to be common. But with the advent of faster and cheaper printing, this traditional method is fading away. So now we're having to like learn as much as we can before it goes away. It is a huge responsibility. I think it kind of weighs on all of us. But at Ariane Press, the team devotes their days to preserving this historic trade, even in one of the tech capitals of the world. We visited this 101-year-old press to learn how and why it's still standing. Each book begins in the foundry, where Brian Ferrett spends his day at a monotype machine from the 1890s making individual letters. It can be very, very difficult. There could be days where nothing goes right. There could be weeks where nothing goes right. When I have three casters running and nothing's going wrong, that makes me just ridiculously happy. He lights a fire under the machine, melting the lead, tin, and antimony solution that is used to create the letters. We have a pump here and a nozzle, and the pump draws up the lead, and then we'll shoot the lead out the nozzle. From there, the lead goes into a mold. Then a matte case with the chosen lettering pushes down on it. He sends the finished type down the hall to the print room. By the end of the day, particularly when we're printing, we're covered with ink, and it's just fantastic. It's kind of like a good little kid again getting messy and getting dirty. At this stage of the process, the foundry has sent us galleys of type. They usually come out about two pages per galley. When we get those galleys, we take a proof print of that. Jeff Raymond arranges the type into a page layout, letter by letter. So on this one, this is page 53. To keep the page together, Jeff wraps it in string. Then he brings it to the proofing press to check for any mistakes. Once the proof looks good, it goes for the final print run on one of the larger presses. The final stage of the bookmaking process is in the bindery. This is where everything gets made into the book from scratch. Megan Gibbous folds, sews, and glues each piece of the book together by hand. The final product is a work of art. I think there's nothing that can compare to physically holding a book in your hands, feeling the piece of paper, running your finger over it, and feeling how the type is impressed into the page. However, modern technology has made this kind of letterpress printing nearly obsolete. Today, top U.S. printers use offset printing presses that can produce 120,000 pages per hour. Before working at Aerion, Brian spent three years at one of these commercial factories. I had been working printing big runs of magazines, 24-hour-a-day type of place, 12-hour shifts. There were so many people, I couldn't even count how many people were there. Letterpress printing just can't compete with that kind of efficiency. I mean, there's a reason why this line of work isn't fiscally viable really anymore, because it is very time-intensive. That all adds up. While many other traditional presses have closed, Aerion has stayed in business thanks to a group of loyal subscribers, like book collectors, institutions, and libraries. This broadside sheet of the Preamble to the Constitution is one of the most recent projects to come through the print room. Making only 350 copies, this limited edition print sells for $50. Aerion also sells cases of type to order, gives public tours, and holds workshops. At 45, Brian is one of a dwindling number of people who make a living as a typecaster. And with fewer people practicing this historic craft, staff feel a personal responsibility to keep the knowledge alive. When it comes to the casting part, there are very few people who can do it. There are so few machines around anymore. And even when you do find them, the knowledge that's out there is disappearing. To pass on the knowledge to the next generation, Brian takes every chance he can get to share his skills. He mentors apprentices during the four-year program at Aerion. The first few weeks I was here, I just felt I'm surrounded by these people who are making this stuff and they knew exactly what they're doing. It's like, oh my god, you know. It's almost impossible to find a place where you can learn these skills. Brian also shares the craft with his six-year-old daughter in his garage at home. Valentine's Day to you. See, Papa? Can I do that, Papa? Sure. Okay. Yeah, normally you do little dots. Happy Valentine's Day to you. It does feel different than newer books, you know, a mass-produced book. There's a different touch to it. That handmade touch is striking a chord, even in the tech hub of San Francisco. You have all these tech people and they've been sitting at their computer all day doing non-tactile things and they come here and they're always crazily impressed. This gives Aerion hope that their business and this craft will continue to live on in an increasingly digital world. You can get a book from 500 years ago and you can still open it and you can still enjoy that book. I have files on my computer from 20 years ago that are gone because I have no idea how to open that anymore. So I think it does really last a whole lot longer than the things that we have now. The era that it was made in adds to its character and its beauty.