Memory > Named Bookbinders
Until the 16th century, few Persian artists signed their work. Even as signatures became more frequent, their use was usually limited to the more privileged arts of calligraphy and painting, rather than bookbinding. This trend is further reflected in biography and criticism of the period, such as Qadi Ahmad's treatise, The Rose-Garden of Art (on the lives of calligraphers and painters) or written album prefaces.
Nevertheless, a few early binders are known. The arzadasht for Baysunghur includes the names of three individuals working on bindings: Mawlana Qiwamuddin, Hajji Mahmud, and Khwaja Mahmud. The Tuhfah-e Sāmī, a biographical compendium of poets written by the Safavid prince Sâm Mirza (1517–66), mentions a single bookbinder: a certain Mawlānā Mujallad of Khurasān—although he is described, naturally, for his verbal rather than visual accomplishments.
Mustafa Âlî, while asserting the superiority of Ottoman binders, lists several Persian masters: Mir Husayn Qazvini, Sahhaf Qasim Beg Tabrizi (also mentioned by Qadi Ahmad), Mirza Beg Tabrizi, Muhammad Zaman Tabrizi, and Qasim 'Ali, the last of whom emigrated to Istanbul during the author's lifetime.
Signatures on bindings increase noticeably in the 19th century, although few are technically associated with binders. Instead, they more often found on lacquer boards executed by painters (naqqâsh-ân). The latter did not necessarily specialize in book-covers but rather decorated all manner of objects, such as pen-cases and mirror-backs, using pasteboard supplied by a specialist craftsman. In the case of a book, the painted boards, when finished, would then have been sewn to the volume by another artist.
An example of this trend is this intimately scaled Qur'an (MS Or. 347). The text, although unsigned, has a colophon specifying that it was copied in 1129 AH/1716 CE. The original binding, as with most of the works included here, was later replaced. The present version was produced in 1272 AH/1856 CE by Karim Lutf-'Ali, who signed the floral composition on the interior of the front doublure and included the date on the rear board. Since artists sometimes varied their signatures, it is unclear whether or not this artist should be associated with Lutf-ʻAli Khan, a prolific painter active in Shiraz between ca. 1850–65.
Other examples, despite lacking an explicit signature, can be attributed to individuals or workshops on the basis of certain motifs. The tortoiseshell ground of Rumi's Masnavi, previously discussed, is usually associated with the Imami school in Isfahan. Likewise, the aniconic binding on the right is likely by Abu Talib (or a follower), active in Hamadan around the third quarter of the 19th century. Abu Talib is purpoted to have held millenarian beliefs—that is, a sense that the end-times were imminent—which were common to a number of revivalist religious movements in Iran at the time. His style is easily recognized by its signature "engine-turned" painting, consisting of wavy but precise lines, here visible in both gold and ruby. Although his bindings ostensibly eschew figuration, close inspection of the medallions reveals a clever use of negative space, which creates the suggestion of addorsed pigeon-heads.
Despite the apparent predominance of painters, leather bindings remained in extensive use. A small number of such manuscripts preserve the names of actual bookbinders (mojallad-ân or sahhâf-ân), although rarely can the same name be located in multiple surviving examples.
The two signed covers here, both produced in the early 1860's, are composed in a similar manner: the classic trio of stamps (a central medallion with two flanking palmettes) is elaborated with a pair of horizontal lozenges that give the name of the binder. Although Sayyid Kazim's flash of gold outlining may immediately catch the eye, Ibrahim’s exclusive use of blind-stamping is arguably the more sophisticated example. Aside from its patiently applied border (involving more than two hundred individual impressions per board), the central medallion is, unusually, inhabited by a pair of diminutive confronted parakeets.
Unfortunately, little is known about such individuals beyond their work itself. Their importance nevertheless extends beyond the arts of the book to include the history of libraries: Qajar-era binders appear to have often practiced their craft as part of a wider vocation, whether as in-house conservators for large libraries or, sometimes, as second-hand book dealers. To dive into such histories of collecting is not, in fact, for the faint of heart.