Four Centuries in One Object: Designing a Bookcase for a Caxton Leaf
What happens when a fragment of a 15th-century book becomes the starting point for a new artwork? How do you design an object for a page printed more than five centuries ago?
Four Centuries in One Object: Designing a Bookcase for a Caxton Leaf
What happens when a fragment of a 15th-century book becomes the starting point for a new artwork? How do you design an object for a page printed more than five centuries ago?
13th March 2026, Diana Bychkova
In memory of Vasil Chebanik (5 August 1933 – 13 March 2025)
Some conversations with our teachers never truly end.
Vasil Chebanik formed me professionally. He was my teacher, mentor, and guide — someone whose advice returned to me every time I began a new book, even many years after graduation.
A remarkable calligrapher and bookmaker, he was the author of the national alphabet Rutenia, the subject of the documentary films Ruthenia and The Artist, and a figure many people simply described as a Renaissance person, innovator of Ukrainian typography. But for those of us who studied with him, he was something even more important: the person who taught us how to think through the hand — through writing, drawing, and making books.
Today marks a year since his passing, and it is still difficult to write about it. In the short videos that remain on his Facebook page he feels so present, so alive. Perhaps for this reason, I unintentionally postponed sharing this Caxton project for a year.
Vasil Chebanik saw the work in progress. Normally, before delivering a finished piece, I would call him. He loved seeing the results of the foundations he had devoted his life to teaching — when students carried them forward into their own work.
On February 25, when I was preparing to submit this project to the Archives and Special Collections at Western University, I tried to call him. The line was busy. Other things intervened, and I did not try again. I thought I would simply show him photographs of the finished piece.
I postponed.
Two weeks later I learned that he was gone.
And our conversation remained unfinished.
One of his thoughts has stayed with me:
“Do each work as if you were creating it for the last time in your life.
As if there will be no other chance to redo it.
What remains after us are the things we have created.
Everything else becomes ash.”
This work below is shared in his memory and in gratitude for his teaching. Perhaps this object is also part of that continuing conversation. This is how teaching continues — through the objects that remain after us.
Photo of Vasyl Yakovych with a ceremonial copy of the Constitution taken in the walls of the Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine (photo by Nestor Volya).
Caxton Leaf Bookcase — Process and Design
by Diana Bychkova and Stepan Romanyshyn
Oct 2024 - Feb 2025
The project began with a request to design a custom bookcase for a single leaf from Caxton’s printing of The Canterbury Tales, now preserved in the Special Collections of Western University.
The challenge was not simply to protect the leaf, but to create an object that could visually converse with its history.
In the video below, you can see how a single printed page gradually becomes the centre of a newly built object — from the first drawing to the carved boxwood illustration and the finished case. It’s a small example of how historical techniques can be translated into modern artistic design — allowing a five-century-old page to live within a new visual framework.
When artists reinterpret historical texts, they inevitably work across several layers of time.
In the case of The Canterbury Tales, at least three historical moments are present simultaneously:
the 14th century, when Geoffrey Chaucer composed the stories;
the 15th century, when William Caxton printed them in one of the earliest English presses;
and the present, when contemporary artists reinterpret these works through today’s visual language.
Often a fourth layer appears as well: the time of the reader, recorded in marginal notes, annotations, and other traces left on the page. Medieval readers were no less eager to comment on texts than we are today — they simply wrote in the margins rather than on social media.
The Commission
Rather than creating a neutral protective enclosure, the goal was to develop an object that would dialogue visually with the historical page it holds. The design therefore combines elements drawn from several historical traditions while allowing space for contemporary interpretation inspired by the narrative structure of The Canterbury Tales itself..
Researching primary sources: a leaf from the Ellesmere manuscript of Canterbury Tales, ivories, boxwood carvings
Translating Narrative into Design
The Canterbury Tales is structured as a frame narrative:
the Prologue establishes the gathering of pilgrims at the Tabard Inn, while each traveller tells a story during the journey to Canterbury.
This layered storytelling inspired the visual composition of the bookcase.
In the background, a panoramic scene depicts the pilgrims assembled at the inn before departure.
Their journey forms a horizontal visual narrative, suggesting both the beginning and the return of the pilgrimage.
At the centre, the knight appears as the principal figure, reflecting the text reproduced on the Caxton leaf — The Knight’s Tale.
The composition deliberately avoids strict symmetry in order to keep the structure visually dynamic.
In the foreground, a symbolic still life refers to the tournament described in the story, translating narrative elements into a contemporary graphic arrangement.
Sketching the illustration
Designing the cover layout
Developing the initials: Geoffrey Chaucer and William Caxton
Crafting the wooden box: walnut and oak, tinted and shellacked
Carving decorative elements to create the embossing for the leather cover
A test relief print in plasticine before creating the leather embossing
Creating the leather embossing and shaping the edges of the box
Carving the illustration in boxwood: stages of work
Sculpting a clay sketch
Stage 2: developing the details
Stage 1: rough wood carving
Stage 3: refining the details and applying tint
Stage “finished”: challenge!
Wood is a living material. Because of changes in temperature and humidity, the finished carved board warped. The next stage: restoration — straightening it under weight and pressure.
Cutting clasps from brass and engraving fine decorative lines
Assembling all elements together
Wood restoration
Wood is a living material. When all the pieces had been assembled and the work was nearly complete, the carved board suddenly cracked.
The restoration process began here. Small pieces of boxwood were carved to the appropriate size and inserted into the cracks. After the glue dried, these sections were carved again to integrate them into the original design. The newly added areas were then polished, tinted, and waxed.
The remaining parts of the case were carved afterwards to avoid accidental damage or stains on the leather.
Decorative inlays
Decorative elements were inserted into the ornaments embossed on the leather. Miniature brass bowls and coral pieces were carved individually and set into place according to the composition.
The initials were gilded using a size 0 brush.
The carving was finally waxed and polished.
Wood putty was tinted to match the color of the carving and applied to small gaps where the wood meets the leather, creating a smooth transition between the materials.
Historical Techniques in a Contemporary Object
The materials and techniques were chosen to echo historical craftsmanship while remaining part of a modern artistic object.
The case combines:
walnut and oak, tinted and shellacked;
calf leather, cold-embossed with ornament derived from late-medieval manuscripts;
miniature brass and coral elements used as decorative accents;
a boxwood relief carving, produced by my partner, inspired by the line-work of medieval woodcuts and ivory carvings;
silver inlay and wax finishing to stabilize and protect the carved surface.
The illustration was first drafted through study of historical woodcut structures, then carved in boxwood using traditional relief techniques.
A Dialogue Across Centuries
The aim of the project was not to recreate a medieval object, but to explore how historical artistic languages can be translated into a contemporary design.
The Caxton leaf remains the historical core of the work.
Around it, new materials and images create a visual environment that reflects the layered history of the text — from Chaucer’s narrative world to Caxton’s press and finally to a modern interpretation.
In this way, a single page printed more than five centuries ago becomes part of a newly created object that continues its story.
Every new object carries traces of the hands and minds that shaped the artist who made it. In the end, what remains are the things we make, and the work continues the conversation that teachers begin.
If you have a rare book, manuscript leaf, or special item that would benefit from a custom case or artistic binding, I welcome inquiries about commissions. Please contact me at: info@dsartistrylabs.com