Look at this fancy A just waiting to be covered in gold leaf. No, it’s not made out of caramel. It’s a gilding size called Instacoll, which can be used alone within a fixed window of time, or as part of a two step system that lets you activate the size at any time. This is a favorite material of some very big name calligraphers, so it seemed like a good place to go after my experiments in gesso went so poorly. All of the examples were done on calfskin vellum.
I’m using it as a one step process, sans activator. Since this is a thick letter, I let it dry for as long as it wanted, then painted a thin, watered down coat over it, let it dry maybe 30 minutes, then gilded.
The Good: I like the Instacoll a lot. It’s easy to work with, already comes tinted this yellow ochre color, and cleans up well. It activated easily with the breath. In the areas that aren’t the A (see below) and weren’t so thick and big, it behaved perfectly and gave lovely, smooth as glass surfaces to work on. They make a version that’s thinned to an ink consistency for lettering, which is nice, as this is too thick to letter with. If you want to do mostly flat gilded lettering, I would recommend ordering the Instacoll ink rather than trying to thin this.
The Not Exactly Bad: It doesn’t offer any stunning improvements over any other modern size when it comes to building up big, smooth pillow letters. Gesso still wins on that front. This one didn’t crater like it would have with PVA, but it settled a little, drying to a fine, leathery texture. Watered down coats filled it in well enough, but it took several of them and never did wind up as smooth and lovely as it looked before it dried.
What I Learned: Next time I work with it, I may burnish the Instacoll a little with agate to see if it smooths out. Or, for these kinds of puffy gilding surfaces, it may be better to build them up slowly over several days with thin coats, then use the activator.
…and then I painted it in with my homemade paints. In a fit of being overly-confident, I did the lettering without making sure it all actually fit on the page first. It was in iron gall ink I made with friends a few weeks back, which is great stuff that stands the test of time. How? By eating into whatever you’re writing on. That means I couldn’t wipe it off. I tried to scrape it off with a scalpel and was doing well taking down the thinnest layers of vellum until I scrubbed at it with the blade and went right through the paper. Ugh.
Good thing I’m researching period materials and methods for this year’s Kingdom A&S competition, as I can use this mistake to have learned a number of lessons and practice the art of removing mistakes from your vellum with it.