A new press for the Press
When we decided to start Strange Matter Press, one problem became apparent: we didn’t have a printing press. Some say this is an important part of the private press experience. As it turns out, we agree. After a few years of the 40 minute commute back and forth to print at local studio Spudnik Press Cooperative, we finally decided to become the proud owners of a complex, 65-year-old piece of machinery.
One thing that you might not be aware of if you haven’t used a printing press (or if your Instagram feed somehow isn't composed entirely of relief printing ASMR) is that they’re actually quite large. And heavy. Massive enough that when you casually mention it to another, more experienced printer, you get responses like:
The problems with a very large piece of equipment are manifold. Most importantly, you need to be able to get it into your workshop. There are reasons, we've learned, so many printers set up in pastoral locales with ample flat land. For those of us fools who try to run a press from their home in a large urban center, one of the only places to put a 7+ foot long, 1300 pound machine is in the basement.
If moving a giant block of steel down several steps sounds like a path to trouble, imagine then navigating it down a zig-zag path and passing it through a narrow doorway. Since neither of us is a skilled mason, we had to be very careful about what press we could use. Bryan's printing experience and strong preference lies with cylinder presses, and we were eager to bring another Vandercook back to Chicago. With vandercookpress.info's advice in hand, we cut down a few pieces of cardboard to simulate moving a few different sizes down the stairs, around that turn, and through the door.
It was obvious we couldn't fit a 219 AB or even a Uni III, but we were supremely confident we could move in a #3, #4, or Uni I. Or at least vaguely hopeful, which is a lot like confidence. After hearing a few horror stories from other press owners at the Manhattan Fine Press Book Fair, we were terrified but undeterred.
Then came the patience game. We can only guess how many Vandercooks remain functional, and the ones that people have, they tend to keep. One or two popped up, but neither were quite right for our purposes. Then one day, Dan from The Arm appeared with a gorgeous Universal I they'd refurbished, replacing the form rollers and cleaning it up. This particular device has an auspicious history, previously owned by the New York Times and left unused since they moved away from letterpress. It was our dream press.
The only problem: the press was in Brooklyn, and we live in Chicago.
