Last time, I took you along on the merry adventure of collecting a very heavy but absolutely awesome Arab printing press. You can read about that somewhat excruciating memory of mine in the previous post here.
Believe it or not, but there is a bit of a plan forming about the press, how I’m going to tackle bringing it back to working order, and the modifications I’m planning to make – because it’s me, nothing is ever left standard.
So what have I got myself into?
The Arab Platen Press, designed by Josiah Wade in 1872, significantly advanced small-scale printing with its innovative design and efficiency. Inspired by George Gordon’s press, Wade incorporated articulated arms for the forme rollers and a unique ink fountain design, enhancing printing quality and speed. Its durability and ease of assembly—supplied as a kit with instructions—made it popular among printers, especially in the UK, Australia, and New Zealand.1 Production continued in Halifax, England until 1959, with approximately 40,000 units produced, but with parts available until as late as 1984.2
I’m in possession of press number 3060 – which at a rough estimate puts this press as being manufactured somewhere around 1900 – so it’s around 125 years old, which is quite impressive. It’s definitely pre-1920 as the press has a spoked flywheel – after this date the design changed to a solid wheel.3
Clean & Refresh
Everything on the press needs a damn good clean. It’s sat for at least 5 years in a shed so there’s thankfully little in the way of rust, but a fair amount of old oil and grime is in desperate need of cleaning off. It’s become that horrible fuzzy sludge that forms whenever oil & grease meets dust – nasty. And then there’s the paint….
Originally, these presses were painted blue (the shade of which is disputed, apparently) with the roller arms pillar box red – something like the example in fig. 1 at the Bradford Industrial Museum.5
My press is currently a battleship grey, with traces of cream/off-white. What numpty thought cream would be a good colour? So that’s got to go.
Sanding it back isn’t a great option—I’m fairly convinced this paint will be the delicious lead-based variety, so I’d rather avoid too much dust in the air. However, I’ve found a sharp scraper pulls the paint off in large flakes, so that’ll be my plan of attack. I’ve even seen some of the original blue and red lurking in my testing!
The whole thing is will get stripped back as best I can to bare iron, and then a good coat of red oxide primer followed by a top coat. I’ve got a colour in mind, and it’s going to be bright. I’m also thinking some pinstriping and signwriting needs to happen (which is an excellent excuse for me to have a go).
Repairs
For a machine that’s the best part of 120 years old, it’s likely not a surprise that there are a few bits that are a little worse for wear – not to mention a few past repairs that need to be un-bodged. Or re-bodged, which is vastly more likely.
By far the biggest concern is the drive system, with the little sod of a cog that fought back so much in the disassembly. There’s some existing damage to it (including a missing tooth), but I think it might be salvageable if I can figure out the keyway situation on the drive shaft.
It looks as though someone at some point leant a little too heavily on one of the feed tables, shearing off the pin from the casting. Thankfully this seems a fairly simple repair, either brazing back on the original pin, or fashioning some form of new one.
There’s also a collection of parts that look like they form a safety cage for the platen, and an additional inking duct. As neither are critical for the operation of the press I’ll leave these for later, in the hopes I figure out where the bits go as I progress with the restoration.
Other than that, I’m grateful that the cast iron frames seem to have no breaks or cracks. Broken iron is an absolute pain in the ass to repair – welding it back together is a very involved and expensive process which I’m glad I can, for the most part, avoid.
Rebuild
Then there are the parts that are missing entirely, which will have to be remade in one way shape or form.
The biggest component that has gone AWOL in the intervening century is the foot treadle assembly. This press had been converted to work with a motor, but I’m opting to convert it back to manual operation. Platen presses have a rather grisly reputation for amputating fingers, and seeing as I’m rather attached to my digits, I’d like a bit more control.
Otherwise, a lot is cosmetic, which is where I can have some fun. Probably to the disdain of some, I won’t be going full original with this restoration, favouring instead something closer to my hybrid style. Look out for some 3D printing, CNC machining, and non-standard additions finding their way onto this machine. This could be the opportunity to try out some processes I’ve wanted an excuse to try – such as 3D printing in fully recycled engineering materials, or mixed materials. Not that I need much of an excuse, to be fair.
Where to start?
Aside from the cleaning and degreasing, I’m in a small race against time with my own memory of where all the bits and pieces go.
So while I still sort of remember where everything came from, I’m planning to loosely re-assemble the press (which will also save me a bit of space in my studio).
How that goes, we’ll soon find out!
References & Resources
- Reading Type. The Story of the Arab Press. Retrieved from readingtype.org.uk. ↩︎
- Science Museum Group. Anglo-American Arab Platen Printing Machine. Retrieved from collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk. ↩︎
- British Letterpress. The Arab Platen Press. Retrieved from https://britishletterpress.co.uk/presses/platen-presses/the-arab/. ↩︎
- Linda Spashett Storye_book, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons ↩︎
- British Letterpress. Buying, Building, and Running an Arab. Retrieved from https://britishletterpress.co.uk/presses/platen-presses/the-arab/buying-building-and-running-an-arab/. ↩︎
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