Extra-Illustration: just don't make a mess of it

Back in 2010, the Folger Shakespeare Library put on an excellent exhibition entitled "Extending the Book: The Art of Extra-Illustration." This dealt primarily with the way readers of Shakespeare over the centuries have personalized their copies of the poet's works by adding prints and other pictorial material, maps, letters, and ephemera that relates to the texts in some way. Some went to the trouble and expense of having these materials bound into the pertinent volumes; others just stuffed 'em in.

The basic idea: "My copy is my copy, and these things I've added are ultimately meant to add to my personal enjoyment of the work as a whole. Whether their suitability passes anyone else's litmus test is not my concern." A healthy attitude for any reader, to be sure.

One slightly esoteric subcategory of extra- or "extended" illustration, all but overlooked in the otherwise extensive Folger exhibition, is the fabrication of hand-made slip cases to hold favorite copies of Shakespeare's works. These can not only add a touch of beauty and personalization to what might otherwise be a fairly generic-looking book, but they also frequently minimize the humidity-induced warping that can ruin the appearance of a book.

Pictured above are two handmade, homemade slip cases for Shakespearean plays that both include small copies of paintings of Venice: on the left is J.M.W. Turner's Juliet and her Nurse (oil on canvas, exhibited at the Royal Academy in London in 1836). One might ask, "Isn't Romeo and Juliet set in 'fair Verona,' not Venice?"

Turner's watercolors and oils of Venice, his "tinted steam" to use the words of Constable, are a magnificent and undeniable precursor to the works of the French Impressionists. Of course, the French have always tried to deny it. Who could be surprised by that?

Turner was evidently confident that he would be excused for a bit of whimsy. Why not place Juliet above the Piazza San Marco, perhaps the most picturesque man-made spot in the world?

The slipcase on the right might appear to feature one of Canaletto's detailed Venetian vistas, but actually displays a small copy of Bernardo Bellotto's View of the Grand Canal: Santa Maria della Salute and the Dogana from Campo Santa Maria Zobenigo, an oil painting on canvas created around 1747 and now in the Getty Museum. Belotto actually was in Canaletto's studio at the time he painted the scene, so the resemblance to works of that painter are not merely coincidental.

Both slip covers hold copies of The Merchant of Venice, J.M.W. Turner's whimsy notwithstanding.